"What am I doin' here?" asked Smith.
"'Ow do we know?" asked the delighted crew. "You would come. It warn't no good excusin' of ourselves."
Smith put his hand to his head.
"Who hit me?" he demanded savagely.
"No one," said the crew unanimously; "you tried to stand on your 'ead."
"Put me ashore," said Smith. "What are you goin' to do?"
"We're waitin' to see the 'Arvester yonder 'eave 'er anchor up," replied Benson. "We're in the sailor-supplyin' line, we are, same as you was."
"He don't like to hear that," said Billings; "we're cutting him out of a job. And this time we ain't supplyin' admirals."
"No, we ain't. Yah, you man-buyin', sailor-robbin' swine! And 'twas you dared touch our admiral. Oh, you dog, you!"
They all took a turn at him, and Smith saw he was in the tightest corner he had ever occupied. This was satisfactorily expressed for him.