“Well, then,” said Jem triumphantly, “they may call it cowardly, or desertion, or what they like; but what I say is this, a man can’t be doing wrong in taking stolen goods back to them as they belong to.”
“No, Jem, I s’pose not.”
“Very well then, Mas’ Don; the question is this—Will you or won’t you?”
“I will, Jem.”
“First chance?”
“Yes, I am decided.”
“That’s a bargain then, my lad. So shake hands on it. Why! How rough and hard and tarry your hands have grown!”
“Look out, Jem!”
Don caught hold of the grapnel rope ready to haul up and get away from the shore, but Jem seized his hand.
“It’s all right, Mas’ Don. Only them two running back with a basket, and I’m in that sort o’ way of thinking that they’ve only got to coax me a bit, and swear as there shall be no tattooing and meat-pie nonsense, and I’d go ashore with them now.”