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Updated: May 23, 2025
Binson, you are jist the man I am looking for, this last six hours." "Why so, Partrick what do you mean?" said Uncle Nathan, mystified by the sudden change of manner in the new convert. "Hould aisy a bit, for I'd like to hould a private correspondence wid yous. Will ye jist come to the hurricane deck, till I tells yous all about it?" "Sartain," replied Uncle Nathan, his curiosity fully excited.
Hatchie recognized the preconcerted signal, and, abruptly terminating his remarks, he leaped into the box, drew on the lid, and left Uncle Nathan to find his way out as best he could. "Whisht, now," said Pat, whispering down the hatch. "Jump up, Mr. Binson!"
He heard the whispered recognition of its inmate, and stood like a statue while Hatchie freed himself from his confinement. "Whisht, now," said Pat, in a low voice; "give me your hand, Mr. Binson. Now, there yous are," and he placed Uncle Nathan's hand in that of Hatchie. Uncle Nathan found the hand was warm, and felt completely relieved of the sensation of fear which had come over him.
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