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But with all them cracks in it he might not hit it, at that. Mother of mine! To think Missus Ryan's li'l' boy should ever git caught stayin' in a hole like this, along o' drunks and skiddin' she-goats and did ye say a Dutchman?" "German. Chap named Schwandorf." "Yeah?" Tim's tone was sinister. "Say, Cap, gimme the room next that guy. And if ye hear anybody yowlin' before mornin' don't git worried.
Being more or less busy tryin' to shift gears without barkin' Mrs. Garvey's knees, and turn corners without skiddin' into the gutter, I didn't notice for a while that Vee was conductin' a perfectly good monologue. That's what it was, though. Hardly a word out of our stately passenger.
That is, the goat the cap'n's kiddin' I mean the goat that's kiddin' the cap the skiddin' she-goat Aw, rats! ye know what I'm drivin' at. Me tongue so dry it don't work right." Wherewith Tim retreated in disorder to his room and began wrestling with his new hammock and the iron hooks. Swift darkness filled the rooms. The sun had slid down below the bulge of the fast-rolling world.
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