“Tonans ahoy! Have you got enough?”
“Well, by the currycomb—” began Ruhet, “how did this ship turn clean about without my noticing it? Look here, Wahr, do you see that hump on her?”
Nicht Wahr said that he did.
“Well, by the crackle of the galley fire, I believe that’s a tin gun in there! It’s a toy warship. Aha, ha, ha!”
“One gun,” laughed the happy Wahr, with his admiral. “What luck!”
“Knock wood!” cried Ruhet, who was superstitious. They did this.
“Have—you—got—enough?” cried the great voice.
“What’s he saying, Wahr?” asked Ruhet.
But Wahr hastened below to order the boat to pick up the children (so as not to show the admiral how little he knew) and delayed his return, so that no one—not even Nicht—could tell him.
“No matter,” said Ruhet, “give her the starboard broadside. And be sure that you don’t hit her. I don’t want her spoiled. Give her fits! Skeer her so terribly that she’ll come up like a little man and shake hands with us. Then we’ll have her. And don’t be too dinked polite!” And the great admiral poked his elbow into the ribs of his great gunner and laughed. “My, but I am hungry!” he went on. “She may have a little luncheon aboard. Enough for one.”