Part 10 (1/2)
”Well, I dare say she is, but one of our little bra.s.s guns can send b.a.l.l.s that sail through the air much faster. So drop all those dismal prophecies and damping thoughts about danger. Our officers know their way about and have got their eyes open. The skipper knows about everything, and what he doesn't know bully Anderson tells him. It's all right, Franky. Just look at the lads! Why, there's Tom May smiling as if he'd filled his pockets full of prize money.”
”Yes,” a.s.sented Murray, ”and the other lads have shaped their phizzes to match. But let's get closer to the lugger.”
”What for?” said Roberts sharply.
”To have a good look at her Indiarubber-cultivating crew.”
”Not I!” cried Roberts. ”If we go there you'll begin to see something wrong again, and begin to croak.”
”No, no; honour bright! If I do think anything, I won't say a word.”
”I'd better keep you here out of temptation,” said Roberts dubiously.
”Nonsense! It's all right, I tell you. There, come along.”
CHAPTER FIVE.
TRUSTING A GUIDE.
The two lads made for where they could get a good view of the lugger swinging by a rope abreast of the starboard gangway, and as they pa.s.sed along the quarter-deck, the shrill strident tones of the American's voice reached them through one of the open cabin skylights, while directly after, Murray, keen and observant of everything, noted that the two marines of whom his companion had spoken were standing apparently simply on duty, but thoroughly upon the alert and ready for anything, their whole bearing suggesting that they had received the strictest of orders, and were prepared for anything that might occur.
Roberts gave his companion a nudge with his elbow and a quick glance of the eye, which produced ”Yes, all right; I see,” from Murray. ”I'm afraid--I mean I'm glad to see that I was only croaking; but I say, d.i.c.k, have a good quiet look at those fellows and see if you don't find some excuse for what I thought.”
”Bah! Beginning to croak again.”
”That I'm not,” said Murray. ”I only say have a look at them, especially at that fellow smoking.”
”Wait a moment. I have focussed my eye upon that beauty getting his quid ready--disgusting!”
”Yes, it does look nasty,” said Murray, with the corners of his lips turning up. ”The regular Malay fas.h.i.+on. That fellow never came from these parts.”
”Suppose not. Why can't the nasty wretch cut a quid off a bit of black twist tobacco like an ordinary British sailor?”
”Instead of taking a leaf out of his pouch,” continued Murray, ”smearing it with that mess of white lime paste out of his sh.e.l.l--”
”Putting a bit of broken betel nut inside--” said Roberts.
”Rolling it up together--” continued Murray.
”And popping the whole ball into his pretty mouth,” said Roberts. ”Bah!
Look at his black teeth and the stained corners of his lips. Talk about a dirty habit! Our jacks are bad enough. Ugh!”
”I say, d.i.c.k,” whispered Murray, as the Malay occupant of the boat realised the fact that he was being watched, and rolled his opal eyeb.a.l.l.s round with a peculiar leer up at the two young officers.
”Now then,” was the reply, ”you promised that you wouldn't croak.”
”To be sure. I only wanted to say that fellow looks a beauty.”
”Beauty is only skin deep,” said Roberts softly.