Aleck turned his hand into a drinking vessel and imitated the act of drinking.
“No–o–o–o!” cried Tom, indignantly. “Haven’t had a drop of anything but water for a week.”
“Then how did you get my boat half full of water?”
“I didn’t, sir. You came and chucked that heavy lump of paper down, and it broke the middle thwart, being a weak ’un, because of the hole through for the boat’s mast, and went on down through the bottom.”
“What! I did nothing of the sort, sir.”
“Oh, Master Aleck! Why, I seed yer shadow come right over me with yer hands up holding the lump o’ paper, and afore I could straighten myself up down it come, and went right through the bottom.”
“You don’t mean to tell me that there’s a hole right through the bottom of my beautiful Seagull?” cried Aleck, wildly.
“Why, how could she have got full o’ water if you hadn’t chucked that down? I would ha’ come up and fetched it, sir. That comes o’ your being so rannish.”
“How dare you!” cried Aleck, passionately. “I tell you I did nothing of the sort.”
“What’s the good o’ telling an out-an’-outer about it, Master Aleck, sir, when I see yer quite plain; leastwise, I see yer shadow when yer come to the edge.”