“In for what?” said Aleck.
“For what? Ah, you’d soon know if you did blow upon us, my lad. But, there, I don’t believe it a bit now, and I got some’at else to do but stand talking to you, so I’m off. Only, you know, my lad, as it’s the best thing for a chap like you as wants to live peaceable like with his neighbours to keep his mouth shut—mum—plop.”
The two last words were sounds made by slapping the mouth closely shut and half open with the open hand, after doing which Eben Megg stepped down the narrow turning and mysteriously disappeared.
“Bother him and his bullyings and threats,” cried Aleck. “Such insolence! But, there, I must see about my paper and get back.”
Chapter Twelve.
Left alone in the boat, Tom Bodger sat down on one of the thwarts with his wooden pegs stuck straight out before him. Then he brought them close together with a sharp rap and began to rub one over the other gently; but these movements had nothing to do with the thinking, though he more than once told himself that he thought better when he was rubbing his legs together.
As he sat there he naturally enough began to watch the man-o’-war boat with her smart young officer and neat, trim-looking crew, while, continuing his inspection, he ran his eyes over the boat and admired its beautiful lines.
This brought up memories of the time when career and body had both been cut short by that unlucky cannon ball, leaving him a cripple and a pensioner.