Part 29 (1/2)
”What do you mean by that?” asked Murray.
”Look here, and I'll show you.”
”Well, I'm looking; but it's too dark to see what you are fumbling over.”
”How stupid! What a blind old bat you are! Well, it's a piece of plum duff.”
”Why, you're like a school-boy,” said Murray.
”Oh no, I'm not.”
”You may say oh no you're not, but fancy me saving up a bit of cold pudding from dinner and bringing it out of my jacket pocket to eat!”
”Ah, but you have no reason for doing it. I have.”
”What, are you going to use it as a bait?”
”That's it, my son; but I'm not going to use hook or line.”
”Then what are you going to do?”
”Throw it over for one of the sharks we saw cruising about before sundown.”
”But what for? You don't want to pet sharks with cold pudding.”
”No. Guess again.”
”Stuff! Speak out.”
”Poison--cold pison.”
”What! Why, you would never see the brute that took it turn up in the darkness.”
”Don't want to, my son,” said the lad solemnly.
”Look here, d.i.c.k, it's too hot, to-night, and I'm too tired and sleepy to try and puzzle out your conundrums, so if you want me to understand what you're about you had better speak out. What a rum chap you are!”
”I am.”
”One hour you're all a fellow could wish; the next you are red-hot to quarrel. See how you were this afternoon when the doctor was talking to you.”
”Ah! I was out of temper then, but now I feel so happy that a child might play with me.”
”Glad to hear it, but I don't want to be child-like, and I don't want to play.”
”Perhaps not, but you'll be interested.”
”Fire away, then. What has made you so happy?”
”I had an idea.”