“Don’t be cruel with them,” laughed Scott.
“And that big boatswain—I’ll be even with him yet,” blustered Clyde, as he shook his head menacingly.
“Are you going to thrash him too?” asked Scott, opening his eyes.
“I’ll take care of him. He don’t toss me round in that way without suffering for it.”
“Well, don’t hurt him,” suggested the good-natured seaman.
“He’ll get a broken head before he grows much older,” added Clyde, drawing out a belaying-pin from the fife-rail. “I shall not be in this ship a great while longer; but I mean to stay long enough to settle my accounts with the big boatswain and the two nobs on the quarter-deck.”
“How are you going to do it, my dear Albion?”
“Leave that to me. No man can insult me without suffering for it.”
“Perhaps the officers will apologize, but I don’t believe Peaks will. He’s an obstinate fellow, and would do just what the principal told him to do, even if it was to swallow you and me, and half a dozen other fellows. You don’t mean to lick the principal too—do you?”