“Dinner!” said Ned, in surprise; “why, you ain’t got none.”
“Wot?” said Bill ferociously.
“You see the skipper only serves out for three now,” said the cook.
“Well, why didn’t you save us some?” demanded the other.
“There ain’t enough of it, Bill, there ain’t indeed,” said Ned. “We have to do more work now, and there ain’t enough even for us. You’ve got biscuit and water, haven’t you?”
Bill swore at him.
“I’ve ’ad enough o’ this,” he said fiercely. “I’m coming up, let the old man do what he likes. I don’t care.”
“Don’t do that, Bill,” said the old man persuasively. “Everything’s going beautiful. You was quite right what you said about the old man. We was wrong. He’s skeered fearful, and he’s going to give us twenty pun to say nothing about it when we get ashore.”
“I’m going to have ten out o’ that,” said Bill, brightening a little, “and it’s worth it too. I get the ’orrors shut up down there all day.”
“Ay, ay,” said Ned, with a side kick at the cook, who was about to question Bill’s method of division.