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Updated: June 5, 2025
Aun' Peggy tol' 'im she'd wuk 'er roots, en fer 'im ter come back de nex' night, en she'd tell 'im w'at she c'd do fer 'im. "So de nex' night Jeff went back, en Aun' Peggy gun 'im a baby-doll, wid a body made out'n a piece er co'n-stalk, en wid splinters fer a'ms en legs, en a head made out'n elderberry peth, en two little red peppers fer feet. "'Dis yer baby-doll, sez she, 'is Hannibal.
"I can't take no chances with this and keep him quiet in there." Pointing to the alcove, Jarrow slipped out through the door, followed by Peth, close at heel, like a well-trained dog behind his master. "It's this way," said Jarrow, as they made their way between the bales and barrels among the workers on the Mole.
But the crew had suddenly become gleeful, as if the quarrel between master and mate had provided a great joke. Peth was walking about forward, in bare feet, growling out a word now and then, and obviously going to great pains not to look aft.
"I won't be at all disturbed," said Trask, getting out of his deck chair so that he could see Peth. "I reckon I'd rather be for'ard," repeated the mate, doggedly. Captain Dinshaw came up through the companion, and started toward Peth, glaring at the mate. "What's this? What's this?" cried Dinshaw. "Better keep quiet, sir, and let me handle it," said Jarrow in a low tone.
The address was nearly as long as the host's name "Badi Darga, Riverside, Zuni Mandai, in front of Shanwar Wada, Kasba Peth, Poona City." But, in spite of these precise directions, it would have been a difficult place for anyone to find who was not pretty well acquainted with the labyrinths of the old city.
"What's this?" demanded Jarrow, turning back to stare at the bill. Vanderzee leaned over the bar, and Peth craned his neck forward, maintaining his eternal grin. They had never seen Dinshaw with so much wealth before. "Money!" piped Dinshaw, triumphantly. "Has he gone plumb loco?" asked Jarrow, looking at Vanderzee. "Dot money ain'd crassy," said the black man.
They stood in the darkness, silent for a few minutes, listening, and caught again the rattle of oars in locks at quite a distance. The boat seemed to be moving about cautiously, feeling its way in behind the reef. "I can't make out what the devil they're up to," said Jarrow in a grumbling sort of whisper. "Peth never did have much sense. Sometimes I've thought he was clean out of his head."
Jarrow departed for his room, leaving a wet trail behind him. "He's all right," whispered Locke. "If we can get Dinshaw, we're fixed up to leave." "We'll keep an eye on the captain just the same," said Trask. "I rather think he's had all he wants of Peth and the crew, even if he was going to stand in with them at one time." "Oh, I guess he's straight enough," said Locke.
It was not in English, but in a deep guttural tongue. "Peth yw hono sydd yn gorwedd yna ar y ddaear?" said a masculine voice. "Yn wirionedd I do not know what it can be," said the female voice, in the same tongue. "Here is a cart, and there are tools; but what is that on the ground?" "Something moves beneath it; and what was that a groan?" "Shall I get down?"
Peth he's makin' to do somebody hurt some time." "Let 'em fight," said Trask, and he began to help Doc hand out the clothing from the bag which the steward stowed above. When the bag was partly empty Trask opened a leather pocket that was fitted to one of the compartments. He gave an exclamation of surprise as he found it empty.
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