“Yep, the minute he turns his eye ashore and sees us lazin’ here instead of workin’.”
“Then, come on.”
“Not me,” said Jude, “not till Satan begins. I’m too comfortable. I been working hard all the morning while you two was aboard the Juan clackin’ with Sellers and havin’ drinks, I bet. I’m going to rest myself—what did you have?”
“Ginger beer and a cigar.”
“Did you take notice of Cark’s face?”
“Rather!”
“They say he hasn’t any one side to his face where the patch is. I’d like to see him with the patch off, wouldn’t you?”
“Lord, no! I saw quite enough of him with it on. Come, get up, and let’s get to work.”
“I’m not goin’ to work no more,” mumbled Jude drowsily. “I’m dead sick of fetchin’ and carryin’. Let Satan go and fetch and carry for himself. I’m going to stick here.”