“Ho!” cried the captain angrily: “it’s a capital joke. Very funny, no doubt; but it strikes me somebody’s going to laugh on the wrong side of his mouth. Just wait till it’s daylight.”
“Oh, it’s all right, skipper. You can’t set us ashore now,” said the American, laughing.
“Can’t I? Oh! we shall see about that, my fine fellow. If you think I’m going on this voyage with a couple of lunatics on board you’re preciously mistaken. I’d sooner sail to Egypt with a cargo of black cats.”
“Hark at him,” said the American merrily to Sir Humphrey and his brother. “He likes his joke.”
“Joke, sir?” cried the captain. “You’ll find this no joke, Mr Yankee Doodle.”
“Go along with you, captain. Yankee Doodle knows John Bull better than he knows himself. You’re not going to make me believe you’ll set me and my man ashore and leave us in a savage place to die of starvation and ague.”
“You soon will believe it, though, sir,” said the captain; but in spite of his annoyance he could not thoroughly infuse his tones with sincerity.
“You’re only blowing, skipper, when you might be taking pity on that poor chap of mine who’s been shut up in the barrel all these hours without giving a single squeak; and all because he’d risk anything so as to go with his master. That’s true, isn’t it, Dan?”
“Yes, that’s right, boss,” replied the little fellow, who kept passing his tongue over his lips.
“Hungry, Dan?”