“I say,” said Aleck, at last, “isn’t it droll?”
“Droll!” groaned the midshipman. “What, being shut up here?”
“No, no; our meeting as we did in Rockabie harbour, and what took place with the boys. I never expected to see you again, and now here have I found you out, a prisoner, chained by the leg, and in ever so short a time you and I have grown to be quite friends.”
“Yes,” said the midshipman, drawing a deep breath. “I didn’t like you the first time we met.”
“And I didn’t like you,” said Aleck, laughing. “I thought you were stuck-up and consequential. I say, I wish Tom Bodger were here!”
“What, that wooden-legged rasé sailor?”
“Yes.”
“What good could he do—a cripple like that?”
“Cripple! Oh, I never thought of him as a cripple. He’s as clever as clever. There isn’t anything he won’t try to do. I was thinking that if he were here he’d be scheming some plan or another to get rid of the chain about your leg.”
“Hah!” sighed the midshipman, “but he isn’t here. I say!”