Sniggers. Those clever ones are the beggars to make a muddle. Their plans are clever enough, but they don't work, and then they make a mess of things much worse than you or me.
Bill. Ah!
Sniggers. I don't like this place.
Bill. Why not?
Sniggers. I don't like the looks of it.
Bill. He's keeping us here because here those niggers can't find us. The three heathen priests what was looking for us so. But we want to go and sell our ruby soon.
Albert. There's no sense in it.
Bill. Why not, Albert?
Albert. Because I gave those black devils the slip in Hull.
Bill. You give 'em the slip, Albert?