“It’s not greed,” returned Billy, “but Ned’s little story is so hard an’ tough, that I can’t get it down dry.”
“I should think not. It would take the Glutton himself to swallow it with a bucket of tea to wash it down,” said Luke Trevor.
At this point the conversation was interrupted by an order from the skipper to go on deck and “jibe” the smack, an operation which it would be difficult, as well as unprofitable, to explain to landsmen. When it was completed the men returned to the little cabin, where conversation was resumed.
“Who’ll spin us a yarn now, something more believable than the last?” asked Billy, as they began to refill pipes.
“Do it yourself, boy,” said Joe.
“Not I. Never was a good hand at it,” returned Billy, “but I know that the mate o’ the Sparrow there can spin a good yarn. Come, Evan, tell us about that dead man what came up to point out his own murderer.”
“I’m not sure,” said Evan, “that the story is a true one, though there’s truth at the bottom of it, for we all know well enough that we sometimes pick up a corpse in our nets.”
“Know it!” exclaimed Joe, “I should think we do. Why, it’s not so long ago that I picked one up myself. But what were ye goin’ to say, mate?”
“I was goin’ to say that this yarn tells of what happened long before you an’ me was born; so we can’t be wery sure on it you know.”
“Why not?” interrupted Ned Spivin. “The battle o’ Trafalgar happened long before you an’ me was born; so did the battle o’ Waterloo, yet we’re sure enough about them, ain’t we?”