"Vot o' that?" chuckled Abraham. "You can shave him, you know."
"I can," rejoined Jack; "and you, too, old Aaron, if I'd a razor."
"How soon do you expect Mishter Vudd?" inquired the janizary, tauntingly.
"What's that to you?" retorted Jack, surlily.
"Because I shouldn't like to be out o' the vay ven he arrives," returned Abraham, in a jeering tone; "it vouldn't be vell bred."
"Vouldn't it!" replied Jack, mimicking his snuffling voice; "then shtay vere you are, and be cursed to you."
"It's all up," muttered Thames. "Mr. Wood will be intercepted. I've destroyed my only chance."
"Not your only chance, Thames," returned Jack, in the same undertone; "but your best. Never mind. We'll turn the tables upon 'em yet. Do you think we could manage that old clothesman between us, if we got out of this box?"
"I'd manage him myself, if my arms were free," replied Thames, boldly.
"Shpeak up, vill you?" cried Abraham, rapping his knuckles against the hatch. "I likes to hear vot you says. You can have no shecrets from me."