Having accomplished my
errand, I was on my way down again, when I heard a sharp sound as of
slapping.
Startled, I looked at the deck-house. I was aware at the same time that the
men below me were looking in the same direction.
The sound of slapping was repeated; then I heard a mild, gentle voice
saying, "Oh, he's sick, is he? Poor fellow! Ain't it hard to be sick away
from home?" Slap--slap. "Well, I declare, what do you suppose we'd better
do about it? Shan't we send for the doctor? Poor fellow!" Slap--slap. "Ah!
ah! ah!" Kipping's voice hardened. "You blinking, bloody old fool. You
would turn on me, would you? You would give me one, would you? You would
sojer round the deck and say you're sick, would you? I 'll show you--take
that--I'll show you!"
Now, as I sprang on deck and ran out where I could see what was going
forward, I heard Bill's feeble reply. "Don't hit me, sir. I didn't go to do
nothing. I'm sick. I've got a pain in my innards. I _can't_ work--so help
me, I _can't_ work."
"Aha!" Again Kipping laughed mildly. "Aha! _Can't_ work, eh? I'll teach you
a lesson."
Bill staggered against the deck-house and clumsily fell, pressing his hands
against his side and moaning.
Pages:
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123