“I don’t know, sir, whether you know what I was alloodin’ to just now,” said Tim, in trembling accents, as the skipper came within earshot again. “I’m a-referring to a cab ride.”
“And I told you that I’ve forgiven you,” said Flower, sternly, “forgiven you freely—all of you.”
“It’s a relief to my mind, sir,” faltered the youth, staring.
“Don’t mix yourself up in my business again, that’s all,” said the skipper; “you mightn’t get off so easy next time.”
“It’s been worrying me ever since, sir,” persisted Tim, who was half fainting. “I’ve been wondering whether I ought to have answered them ladies’ questions, and told ’em what I did tell ’em.”
The skipper swung round hastily and confronted him. “Told them?” he stuttered, “told them what?”
“I ’ardly remember, sir,” said Tim, alarmed at his manner. “Wot with the suddenness o’ the thing, an’ the luckshury o’ riding in a cab, my ’ead was in a whirl.”
“What did they ask you?” demanded the shipper.
“They asked me what Cap’n Flower was like an’ where ’e lived,” said Tim, “an’ they asked me whether I knew a Mr. Robinson.”
Captain Flower, his eyes blazing, waited.