We was sitting in the fo'c's'le at ten one arternoon, when Bill Cousins came down, an' we see at once 'e'd 'ad a turn with the mate. He sat all by hisself for some time simmering, an' then he broke out. "One o' these days I'll swing for 'im; mark my words."
"Don't be a fool, Bill," ses Joe Smith.
"If I could on'y mark 'im," says Bill, catching his breath. "Just mark 'im fair an' square. If I could on'y 'ave 'im alone for ten minutes, with nobody standing by to see fair play. But, o' course, if I 'it 'im it's mutiny."
"You couldn't do it if it wasn't, Bill," ses Joe Smith again.
"He walks about the town as though the place belongs to 'im," said Ted Hill. "Most of us is satisfied to shove the niggers out o' the way, but he ups fist an' 'its 'em if they comes within a yard of 'im."
"Why don't they 'it 'im back?" ses Bill. "I would if I was them."
Joe Smith grunted. "Well, why don't you?" he asked.
"'Cos I ain't a nigger," ses Bill.
"Well, but you might be," ses Joe, very soft. "Black your face an' 'ands an' legs, and dress up in them cotton things, and go ashore and get in 'is way."
"If you will, I will, Bill," ses a chap called Bob Pullin.