“What would you do?” asked Jimmy Breeze, huskily.
“Me?” asked the mate, apparently amazed at the question.
“Yes, you.”
“About what?” asked Enlis, trying to look utterly lost.
“About that gal and the money, blast you!”
“Oh!” exclaimed Mr. Enlis, as if a sudden light had flooded the dark recesses of his brain. He remained silent.
“Well, what?” asked the skipper, in real anger.
“I dunno,” said Mr. Enlis, after a long pause. “’Pears to me I wouldn’t let on nothing about it. Mum’s the word, says I.”
“But the money, you swab?” growled the skipper.
“To be sure,” said Enlis. “The money.”