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"No, I ain't troubled about that," answered Riggles, scratching his chin and knitting his brows; "but I've got a brother, d'ye see " "Nothin' uncommon in that," said Bolter, as the other paused. "P'r'aps not," continued Tom Riggles; "but then, you see, my brother's such a preeplexin' sort o' feller, I don't know wot to make of him." "Let him alone, then," suggested Ben Bolter.
The bowsprit of the Waterwitch had by that time been shot away; her rigging was dreadfully cut up, and her wheel smashed; and Captain Ward felt that, if the St. Denis were to get away, he could not pursue her. He therefore resolved to board. "Come along, lads," cried Tom Riggles, on hearing the order; "let's jine 'em."
"That won't do neither, for he's got into trouble; but it's a long story, an' I dessay you won't care to hear about it." "You're out there, Tom," said Bowls; "come, sit down here and let's have it all." The three men sat down on the combings of the fore-hatch, and Tom Riggles began by telling them that it was of no use bothering them with an account of his brother Sam's early life.
"Go on, Tom," said Ben Bolter; "don't cut in like that on the thread of any man's story." "Well," continued Riggles, reading with great difficulty, "Sam goes on for to say " Two builders have, however, got the plans, and we are waiting for their sp-s-p-i-f- oh! spiflication; why, wot can that be?" "It ain't spiflication, anyhow," said Bolter. "Spell it right through." "Oh!
If I thought that you wanted to wait a year or two, I could easily find work in these times; for Admiral Nelson is glad to get men to follow him to the wars, an' Tom Riggles and I have been talkin' about goin' off together." "Don't speak of that, Bill," said the girl earnestly. "I dread the thought of you going to the wars; but but the truth is, I cannot make up my mind to quit my mother."
I've got him, it's specification," cried Riggles; "well " "`Specification. Many things will cost more than we anticipated. We had to turn the family out who had squatted here, at two days' notice, as we could not afford to live at Kinmonday that's the nearest town, I s'pose.
They say that many of 'em is saved, and turns out well, but this feller don't seem to have bin a crack specimen, for Sam's remarks about him ain't complimentary. Here's the letter, mates," continued Riggles, drawing a soiled epistle from his pocket; "it'll give 'e a better notion than I can wot sort of a fix he's in, Will you read it, Bill Bowls?"
Besides the meek old soul herself, there were present on that occasion our old friends Ben Bolter and Tom Riggles, the latter of whom flourished a wooden stump instead of a right leg, and wore the garb of a Greenwich pensioner. His change of circumstances did not appear to have decreased his love for tobacco.
When this happened the mate sprang to the companion-hatch to get an axe, intending to cut the weather-shrouds so that the masts might go overboard and allow the ship to right herself, for, as she then lay, the water was pouring into her. Tom Riggles was, when she heeled over, thrown violently against the mate, and both men rolled to leeward.
Riggles," said the Superintendent. "Anything fresh this morning? Any Conundrum?" "I haven't looked at the cattle," he answered, dryly. "Cattle? Why cattle?" "Why, to see if there's any corn under 'em!" he said; and immediately asked, "Why is Douglas like the earth?" We tried, but couldn't guess. "Because he was flattened out at the polls!" said Mr. Riggles.
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