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'Mister Rajah Sahib has just about put his foot in the holes. He will have to explain offeecially how the deuce-an'-all he is writing love-letters to the Czar. And they are very clever maps ... and there is three or four Prime Ministers of these parts implicated by the correspondence. By Gad, sar!
It rung hollow like you say. I looked and found what you found." "And put her back! My soul to God! An' you here all by you'self!" "Why not? The stuff ain't mine." "Who is she? How long since anybody live here?" "I don't know, good while, I guess." "Well, sar! Look here! I open that bag. I count two hondre' thirteen dolla' make it twelve for luck, an' call it you' divvee! You strike her first.
"One of them was hit wid de shot," added Quin. "And I struck one over the head with a fender." "Dem two mus be gone killed dead for sure," said Quin, with solemn earnestness. "Of course it was not possible for them to get ashore, for their boat was stove all to pieces. Do you know them, Quin?" "Yes, sar; dey's all nigger-hunters." "Could they swim?" "I dunno; but I s'peck dey could."
Bursting into tears Carrie answered, "Forgive me, father, but he said he had no bill against me; he made no charge." "But she gave me von big, large mitten," said the Frenchman, "when she see this man, who has more l'argent; but no difference, no difference, sar, this gentleman," bowing toward Ashmore, "parfaitement delighted to pay it."
"Yes, sar; made a quarter taking a letter ashore," answered Moses, showing teeth enough for a full-grown alligator. "Put it in the post-office, did you?" inquired Washburn, indifferently, as he looked behind him at the steamer. "No, sar; didn't put it into the post-office; car'ed it to a saloon-keeper, and he gave me a drink of apple-jack, as soon as he had read it, for bringin' de letter."
"Well, sar, what I meant was this: that going after treasure is a dangerous business ... it's not only the living you've got to think of ." Here Tom threw a careful eye for'ard. "The crew, you mean?" He nodded. "But it's the dead too." "The dead, Tom?" "Yes, sar the dead!" "All right, Tom," I said, "go on."
If not, I fetch you ober to de main land whar you please an' you kin come back here or go whar you choose. Its wort' your while to take your chance, anyhow." The negro said this with such an earnest look that Nigel made up his mind on the spot to accept this curious invitation. "I'll go!" he exclaimed with sudden energy. "When do you start?" "To-morrer at daybreak, sar."
One of my companions went up to a woman in a straw hat, with bright red and green ribbon trimmings and artificial flowers, a gaudy Paisley shawl, and a rainbow-like gown blown out over her yellow boots by a prodigious crinoline, and asked her 'Whom do you belong to? She replied, 'I b'long to Massa Smith, sar."
"I served on P. an' O., sar, an' on P. an' O. we don't care 'sociate wid tramps' sailors." "You impudent black cannibal. You'll be one of the animals those passenger lines carry along to eat the dead babies, to save the trouble of heaving them overboard." The ex-fireman spluttered. But he did not continue the contest.
"Did you scare them away?" exclaimed Marcy. "I reckon so, sar; kase dere ain't nobody but Julius been on de schooner or 'bout it sence dat time." "Well, let's get to work," said Jack. "Julius, you stay below till I tell you to come up, do you hear? If I see so much as a lock of your wool above the combings of the hatch, I'll chuck you over for the catfish."
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