“Yes; that’s what they think,” cried Mark.
“Then they’re a pair of black-looking old noodles,” said Bob. “Here, hi! sit down, or you’ll be overboard.”
“Yes; sit down,” said Mark, rising, and speaking authoritatively as he pointed downward.
“Yes, sir, begging your pardon, that’s what it is; they think you’re going to sell ’em, sir.”
“I wish to goodness they could understand English,” said Mark, impatiently. “How am I to explain?”
“Oh, they know a lot,” said Bob. “Here, I’ll show you. Hi, Soup! Taters, ahoy!”
The two blacks looked at him excitedly.
“It’s all right.”
“All—righ?” said Soup.
“Yes, all right.”