"I'm going with you too," said the Captain. "You needn't be afraid of me. You're the sort I like. But look after your guns. There's going to be something doing—quiet as it looks."
So we rowed ashore, and there was Theodore capering in front of a pile of sponges, but no other face that I knew. But there were seven or eight negroes whose looks I took no great liking to.
"Like some fancy sponges to send home?" said one of these, coming up to me. "Cost you five times as much in Nassau."
"Certainly I'd like a few sponges," I said.
And then Theodore came up to me, looking as though he had lost his mind over the rather fancy silk tie I happened to be wearing.
"Give me dat!" he said, touching it, like a crazy man.
"I can't afford to give you that, Theodore."
"I'd die for dat," he declared.
"Take this handkerchief instead;" but, meanwhile, my eyes were opening. "Take this instead, Theodore," I suggested.
"I'd die for dat," he repeated, touching it.