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Updated: June 23, 2025
"Of course, it wants proper telling," he continued, turning to Stobell. "Did you notice his eyes when I spoke of it bubbling and spluttering over the galley fire?" "I did," replied Mr. Stobell, laying his pipe carefully on the deck. "Some people tell you to tie the pork to a bit o' string after frying it," said Brisket, "but that's what I call overdoing it.
"Did they? I gave orders that that door was to be kept locked when there was nobody in there, and I expect the cook did it by mistake as he passed. It's been a chapter of accidents all through, but I must say, sir, that the determined way you came on deck was wonderful." "Extraordinary!" murmured Mr. Tredgold. "I didn't know him," attested Mr. Stobell, continuing to regard Mr.
Chalk, her face wreathed in triumphant smiles, began to discuss yachting costumes and other necessities of ocean travel with the quivering Mrs. Stobell. Unable to endure it any longer he rose and, in a voice by no means alluring, invited Mr. Chalk into the garden to smoke a pipe; Mr. Chalk, helping himself to two pieces of cake as evidence, said that he had not yet finished his tea.
"Perhaps you came to my house when I wasn't at home," retorted Miss Vickers, in a trembling but sarcastic voice. "I want to hear about it. That's what I've come for." She walked to the dining-room and, as Mr. Stobell still stood in the doorway, pushed past him, followed by her father. Mr.
"Somebody has been talking," said Tredgold, in a hard voice. "Somebody has been confiding in that honest, open-hearted sailor, Captain Brisket." He turned as he spoke and gazed fixedly at the open-mouthed Chalk. In a slower fashion, but with no less venom, Mr. Stobell also bent his regards upon that amiable but erring man. Mr. Chalk returned their gaze with something like defiance.
The firearms which Stobell had pitched out of the tent the night before lay in the bottom, together with boxes of cartridges from the cabin, a couple of axes, and a pile of clothing, from the top of which Mr. Tredgold, with a sharp exclamation, snatched a somewhat torn coat and waistcoat.
"You were talking about a pantomime," said Mr. Tredgold, after a long pause. Mr. Chalk cast an imploring glance at Mr. Stobell to remind him of their compact, and resumed. "Talks of nothing else," he said, watching his friend, "and can't sleep for thinking of it." "That's bad," said Mr. Tredgold, sympathetically. "Has he tried shutting his eyes and counting sheep jumping over a stile?"
Captain Brisket regarded him with a beaming smile; Mr. Stobell's two friends waited patiently. "What ud a schooner like that fetch?" inquired Mr. Stobell. "It all depends," said Brisket. "Of course, if I buy " Mr. Stobell held up his hand again. "All depends whether you buy it for us or sell it for the man it belongs to, I s'pose?" he said, slowly. Captain Brisket jumped up, and to Mr.
She'll want to come." "So will Mrs. Stobell," said that lady's proprietor, "but she won't." "She mustn't hear of it till the last moment," said Tredgold, dictatorially; "the quieter we keep the whole thing the better. You're not to divulge a word of the cruise to anybody. When it does leak out it must be understood we are just going for a little pleasure jaunt.
Vickers darted upstairs with alacrity, and having made himself approximately tidy smoked a morning pipe on the doorstep while his daughter got ready. An air of importance and dignity suitable to the occasion partly kept off inquirers. "We'll go and see Mr. Stobell first," said his daughter, as she came out. "Very good," said the witness, "but if you asked my advice "
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