"Give me his pistols," said Phillips, who, with his new purpose, had resumed his tone of authority.
"Now, airthquakes and sherry-cobbler! wot air yew up to?" he stammered out. "I say, shipmates—hallo! Vast heaving, yew bloated Britishers!"
"Heave with a will! In with him—over with him!"
And in a trice this long-legged son of Columbia was sprawling over the thwarts below.
The idea of cropping Badger's ears actually occurred to Heriot; but he dismissed it as too barbarous and unworthy, even while remembering all the man's rascality.
"What son of Old Scratch is this?" asked Morrison, dragging one from under the gallows-bitts, abaft the foremast.
"Sharkey, with Mr. Basset's revolver in his belt."
"The ugly villain!"
"The murderer of my friend Manfredi, captain," said Heriot, with mingled sadness and loathing.
"An out-and-out ticket-o'-leaver," added Noah, squirting his quid into Sharkey's eye, as he was cast into the boat with a lurch that nearly overset it; "we should lynch him at the yard-arm, captain, that we should."