“Come, Mr Roberts,” cried the lieutenant impatiently; “you have been a long time.”
“Yes, sir,” said Bob, smiling at Ali, “there was a good deal of spear-throwing towards the last, and we had to dodge them.”
“The enemy is not easily frightened,” said the lieutenant, as the propeller once more rapidly revolved; “but we must get back, for I fancy I can hear firing below, and I am afraid they are attacking the fort now for a change.”
“What shall you do, sir?” said Bob eagerly.
“It is not the custom, Mr Roberts, for the officer in command to explain his plans to his subordinates; but if you must know, I shall run the steamer as close up to the fort as I can, and there keep her, if the Malays do not prove too strong for us.”
Then walking to and fro for a few minutes, he ended by going up to where old Dick, with a bandage round his head, was calmly masticating a lump of tobacco.
“I have never thanked you for your capital idea,” said the lieutenant. “That hot water saved us in a terrible pinch.”
“Yes, sir,” said Dick, grinning, “it saved us; but it warn’t my idee at all. ‘There’s lots of boiling water, Dick,’ says Mr Roberts, yonder; ‘screw on the hose, and tell the engineer what you want. Then when all’s ready, and it seems a good time, lay hold of the branch, and play up among the niggers,’ sir; and I did as soon as I could, but my head were in that muzzy state that—”
“There is firing going on,” said the lieutenant. “Mr Roberts, clear again for action.”
“Action, eh?” said old Dick. “Then I can’t do better than say another word to the engineer, for of all the ways to clear the decks this hot water system’s about the best.” So saying, Dick went to screw the hose on the valve once more, muttering and talking to himself the while, and ever and again slapping one of his legs and bursting into a series of chuckles.