"I don't want the pore boy to get
into trouble, do I? Pore little chap. You was young yourself once."
"Yes," I says; "but I'm a bit older now, Bill, and unless you tell me
what your little game is, I shall tell the skipper myself, and the chaps
too. Pore old Thomas told 'im to do it, so where's the boy to blame?"
"Do you think Jimmy did?" says Bill, screwing up his nose at me. "That
little varmint is walking about worth six 'undered quid. Now you keep
your mouth shut and I'll make it worth your while."
Then I see Bill's game. "All right, I'll keep quiet for the sake of my
half," I says, looking at 'im.
I thought he'd ha' choked, and the langwidge 'e see fit to use was a'most
as much as I could answer.
"Very well, then," 'e says, at last, "halves it is. It ain't robbery
becos it belongs to nobody, and it ain't the boy's becos 'e was told to
throw it overboard."
They buried pore old Thomas next morning, and arter it was all over Bill
put 'is 'and on the boy's shoulder as they walked for'ard and 'e says,
"Poor old Thomas 'as gone to look for 'is money," he says; "wonder
whether 'e'll find it! Was it a big bundle, Jimmy?"
"No," says the boy, shaking 'is 'ead.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25