Then he remembered the
accounts of Berande, and the cropper that was coming, and scowled.
He became aware that she was speaking.
"I beg pardon," he said. "What's that you were saying?"
"You weren't listening to a word--I knew it," she chided. "I was saying
that the condition of the _Flibberty-Gibbet_ was disgraceful, and that to-
morrow, when you've told the skipper and not hurt his feelings, I am
going to take my men out and give her an overhauling. We'll scrub her
bottom, too. Why, there's whiskers on her copper four inches long. I
saw it when she rolled. Don't forget, I'm going cruising on the
_Flibberty_ some day, even if I have to run away with her."
While at their coffee on the veranda, Satan raised a commotion in the
compound near the beach gate, and Sheldon finally rescued a mauled and
frightened black and dragged him on the porch for interrogation.
"What fella marster you belong?" he demanded. "What name you come along
this fella place sun he go down?"
"Me b'long Boucher. Too many boy belong along Port Adams stop along my
fella marster. Too much walk about."
The black drew a scrap of notepaper from under his belt and passed it
over. Sheldon scanned it hurriedly.
"It's from Boucher," he explained, "the fellow who took Packard's place.
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