"What's that?" says he. "Why not?"
"I've shamed your goodness, sir."
"Bosh!" says the skipper.
The lad's lips was dry. He licked 'em. An' his throat was dry. He gulped. An' his voice was hoarse.
"I been lyin' t' you," says he.
"You been——"
All at once the lad's voice went shrill as a maid's. 'Twas distressful t' hear.
"Lyin' t' you, sir!" says he. "I been lyin' t' you jus' like mad! An' now you'll not forgive me!"
"Tumm," says the skipper, "this is a very queer thing. I can't make it out."
I could.