"It is what I agreed to give you. But what shall I do with you now? That is the question I want answered," continued the officer impatiently.
"You can't do not'ing wid me, Massa Ossifer, and I must tooken my chance to go up in de boat. Better hab my froat cut 'n be chawed up by a big alligator. Was you ever bit by an alligator, Massa Ossifer?"
"I never was."
"I knows about dat, massa," added Quimp, as he bared his leg, and showed an ugly scar.
Christy would not wait to hear any more, but ordered the cockswain to go ahead again. It looked to him that Quimp, now that he had received his money, and made fifteen dollars out of his morning's work, was intentionally delaying the object of the expedition, for what reason he could form no clear idea.
"I spose, if Captain Stopfoot kill me for w'at I done do, you'll bury me side de old woman dat done gone to glory ten year ago?" continued the negro, who did not look old enough to have buried a wife ten years before.
"I am not in the burying business, my friend, and after you are dead, you had better send for your sons to do the job, for they will know where to find the grave of the departed companion of your joys and sorrows," replied Christy, as the boat came in sight of the bowsprit of the Reindeer again.
"My sons done gone away to Alabamy, sar, and"—
"That's enough about that. There are no alligators about here, and you can swim ashore if you are so disposed; but you must shut up your wide mouth and keep still if you stay in the boat. Heave the lead, bowman!"
"Mark under water two, sir," reported the leadsman.