“I know what he says sometimes about our being thoughtless boys.”
“Yes, that’s what I mean, old fellow; and it isn’t true, for I think a deal about my duties, and as for you—you’re a beggar to think, just like the monkey who wouldn’t speak for fear he should be set to work.”
“Thanks for the compliment,” said Murray drily.
“Oh, you know what I mean. But I suppose we can’t think so well now as we shall by and by. I mean, older fellows can think better, and I suppose that the skipper and old Anderson really do know better than we do. It will be all right, old fellow. They wouldn’t let themselves be led into any trap; and besides, look at the Yankee—I mean, look at his position; he must be sharp enough.”
“Oh yes, he’s sharp enough,” said Murray. “Hear him talk, and you’d think he was brought up on pap made of boiled-down razor-strops.”
“Well, then, he must know well enough that if he did the slightest thing in the way of playing fast and loose with us, he’d get a bullet through his head.”
“Yes—if he wasn’t too sharp for us.”
“Oh, it will be all right,” cried Roberts. “Don’t be too cautious, Franky. Put your faith in your superior officers; that’s the way to succeed.”
“Then you think I am too cautious here, Dick?”
“Of course I do,” cried Roberts, patting his brother middy on the shoulder. “It will be all right, so don’t be dumpy. I feel as if we are going to have a fine time of it.”