Joe made signs for them to
turn-to at the pumps, but they scowled still more. Then he signed that
he wanted something to eat, but the fellows only looked venomous, and
poor Joe groaned, "To-morrow's Christmas Day, and no tommy to eat--let
be the pudden!"
It was indeed heartrending; but the skipper was a thoughtful man, and
when he found that his mate was famine-struck, he risked swamping the
boat, and sent some beef and biscuit. The shameless Spaniards had plenty
below, but they were enraged for some reason or other, and they would
have let their deliverer hunger himself to the bone.
That evening, while Joe was easing the warps by shoving pieces of coir
where the bite came, he felt a grip on his neck. Like a flash he
thought, "Now, the knife." He wrenched himself round, and there was the
Spanish captain, glaring, trembling, and breathing hard.
"See, see! You been help, Ingleese!" and he pointed to the dusk as he
shrieked.
Joe saw at once that the man was wild with drink, and he put on a smile,
with a notion of coaxing the captain over.
Pages:
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219