He finished the sentence by taking the fellow by the scruff of the neck and giving him a violent push as he passed him.
“Waterman’s fare is threepence,” he said to the boy, as the man in the boat, with an utterly expressionless face, took the chest from him, “I’ll stay here till he has put you aboard.”
The boy took his seat, and the waterman, breathing hard, pulled out towards the vessels in the tier. He looked at the boy and then at the figure on the steps, and, apparently suppressing a strong inclination to speak, spat violently over the side.
“Fine big chap, ain’t he?” said the boy.
The waterman, affecting not to hear, looked over his shoulder, and pulled strongly with his left towards a small schooner, from the deck of which a couple of men were watching the small figure in the boat.
“That’s the boy I was going to tell you about,” said the skipper, “and remember this ’ere ship’s a pirate.”
“It’s got a lot o’ pirates aboard of it,” said the mate fiercely, as he turned and regarded the crew, “a set o’ lazy, loafing, idle, worthless——”
“It’s for the boy’s sake,” interrupted the skipper.
“Where’d you pick him up?” inquired the other.
“He’s the son of a friend o’ mine what I’ve brought aboard to oblige,” replied the skipper. “He’s got a fancy for being a pirate, so just to oblige his father I told him we was a pirate. He wouldn’t have come if I hadn’t.”