“Well,” remarked Jeems, “if you children will be quiet and don’t interrupt, I’ll begin. First make yourselves comfortable.”
This the boys proceeded to do; Jim and Juarez stretched their long legs out on the deck, with their backs against the hatch, while Tom started to make himself content and at ease by using Jo’s stomach for a pillow. This, however, did not agree with Jo’s idea of comfort, or perhaps it was his stomach that it did not agree with. However that may be, there was a cat fight on the hatch, Jo and Tom grappling with each other and struggling over and over. Jim was about to jump in and separate them, when he saw that they were likely to roll off the hatch on to the deck, and then he would not have interfered for anything.
The two combatants were so interested that they did not see or care. Then they poised on the edge and, as the ship gave a roll, over they went, just missing Jeems’ shepherd dog, who was peacefully lying, nose over paws, upon the deck. This unexpected avalanche sent him howling for’ard for safety.
Then still clutching each other they rolled into the scuppers, Tom striving to get a strangle hold on brother Jo, and the latter chugging Tom in the side with his free fist. At this juncture Jim took a hand, not in the interest of peace, but because he wanted to hear the shepherd’s yarn. So he yanked them apart, none too gently.
“Ain’t you ashamed of yourselves?” exclaimed Jim severely, “mussing up my clean deck and scaring Jeems’ dog into a fit.”
“I’m no sofa pillow,” panted Jo. “Tom will find that out.”
“I’ll put you children on either side of the hatch if you don’t behave,” advised Jim, “and make you sit there.”
“Like to see you try it,” replied Tom belligerently.
“Send ’em to bed without any supper,” put in Juarez jocosely.