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Gossett seemed to become aware that what he had been looking on as a vague annoyance was really an individual. "Who the devil are you?" Archie drew himself up with dignity. "I am this gentleman's representative," he replied, indicating the Sausage Chappie with a motion of the hand. "His jolly old personal representative. I act for him.
The final was fixed for the following Thursday morning. Gossett, who was a broker, had made some frivolous objection about the difficulty of absenting himself from Wall Street, but had been overruled.
That it should have taken him three strokes to hole out from this promising position was unfortunate, but not fatal, for Gossett, who seemed suddenly to have fallen off his game, only reached the green in seven. A moment later a murmur of approval signified the fact that Archibald had won his first hole. 'Mr Gossett, said a voice.
Gossett was not insensible to the arguments which had been put forward. He brushed a slice of orange from the back of his neck, and mused awhile. "How do I know this fellow would screen well?" he said, at length. "Screen well!" cried Archie. "Of course he'll screen well. Look at his face. I ask you! The map! I call your attention to it." He turned apologetically to the Sausage Chappie.
"And now, youngster," said Jack, wresting the colt out of Vigors' hand, "do as I bid you give him a good colting if you don't I'll thrash you." Gossett required no second threat; the pleasure of thrashing his enemy, if only for once, was quite enough and he laid well on.
It's not often that one gets a command before being two months at sea, and, hang me, now I've got it if I won't keep it; and Mr Smallsole may mast-head whom he pleases. I'm sorry for poor Gossett, though; if Vigors supposes me dead, how he will murder the poor little fellow however, it is all for the good of the service, and I'll revenge him when I come back. Hang me if I won't take a cruise."
Away the frigate and corvette sailed together, and soon fell in with a large lugger, to which they gave chase; but she turned out to be the Aristocrat, a hired vessel, fitted out by Government, and commanded by Lieutenant Gossett. Sir Sydney rubbed his hands. "We could not be better off!" he exclaimed. "The Lion, Wolf, and Jackal all hunting in company."
Little Gossett, at any insulting remark made by Vigors, pointed to the window of the berth and grinned; and the very recollection made Vigors turn pale, and awed him into silence.
Brewster bubbled inarticulately. Mr. Gossett dried himself sketchily with a napkin. The Sausage Chappie snorted. The girl had risen to her feet and was staring wildly. "John!" she cried. Even at this moment of crisis the Sausage Chappie was able to look relieved. "So it is!" he said. "And I thought it was Lancelot!" "I thought you were dead!" "I'm not!" said the Sausage Chappie. Mr.
Little Gossett, at any insulting remark made by Vigors, pointed to the window of the berth and grinned; and the very recollection made Vigors turn pale, and awed him into silence.
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