“But you can’t be proud of such a rough thing as that.”
Carey laughed at the queer look the old fellow gave.
“There,” he cried, “didn’t I say you were making believe?”
“Nay, that you didn’t, sir. I never heard you.”
“Here’s Doctor Kingsmead coming up.”
“Here, I say, don’t you say a word to him, my lad,” cried the old sailor in an anxious whisper.
“Will you own to it then?”
“Nay, that I won’t,” came in a growl.
“Here, doctor,” cried Carey, loudly.
“Yes, what is it?”