“I’ll pirate him,” said the mate, rubbing his hands.
“He’s a dreadful ’andful, by all accounts,” continued the other; “got his ’ed stuffed full o’ these ’ere penny dreadfuls till they’ve turned his brain almost. He started by being an Indian, and goin’ off on ’is own with two other kids. When ’e wanted to turn cannibal the other two objected, and gave ’im in charge. After that he did a bit o’ burgling, and it cost ’is old man no end o’ money to hush it up.”
“Well, what did you want him for?” grumbled the mate.
“I’m goin’ to knock the nonsense out of him,” said the skipper softly, as the boat grazed the side. “Just step for’ard and let the hands know what’s expected of ’em. When we get to sea it won’t matter.”
The mate moved off grumbling, as the small fare stood on the thwarts and scrambled up over the side. The waterman passed up the chest, and dropping the coppers into his pocket, pushed off again without a word.
“Well, you’ve got here all right, Ralph?” said the skipper. “What do you think of her?”
“She’s a rakish-looking craft,” said the boy, looking round the dingy old tub with much satisfaction; “but where’s your arms?”
“Hush!” said the skipper, and laid his finger on his nose.
“Oh, all right,” said the youth testily, “but you might tell me.”
“You shall know all in good time,” said the skipper patiently, turning to the crew, who came shuffling up, masking broad grins with dirty palms.