“An’ if you take my advice,” said the mate, with a sneer, “you’ll keep them things on. I never see you look so well in anything afore.”
“I want to borrow some o’ your clothes, Bob,” said the skipper, eyeing him steadily.
“Where’s your own?” asked the other.
“I don’t know,” said the skipper. “I was took with a fit last night, Bob, and when I woke up this morning they were gone. Somebody must have took advantage of my helpless state and taken ’em.”
“Very likely,” said the mate, turning away to shout an order to the crew, who were busy setting sail.
“Where are they, old man?” inquired the skipper.
“How should I know?” asked the other, becoming interested in the men again.
“I mean your clothes,” said the skipper, who was fast losing his temper.
“Oh, mine?” said the mate. “Well, as a matter o’ fact, I don’t like lending my clothes. I’m rather pertickler. You might have a fit in them.”
“You won’t lend ’em to me?” asked the skipper.