I've begun preparing already."
"Mac has his arm broken," observed Carthew; "how would
he stand the voyage?"
"A broken arm?" repeated the captain. "That all? I'll
set it after breakfast. I thought he was dead like the
rest. That madman hit out like----" and there, at the
evocation of the battle, his voice ceased and the talk
died with it.
After breakfast the three white men went down into the
cabin.
"I've come to set your arm," said the captain.
"I beg your pardon, captain," replied Mac; "but the
firrst thing ye got to do is to get this ship to sea.
We'll talk of me arrum after that."
"O, there's no such blooming hurry," returned Wicks.
"When the next ship sails in ye'll tell me stories!"
retorted Mac.
"But there's nothing so unlikely in the world,"
objected Carthew.
"Don't be deceivin' yourself," said Mac. "If ye want a
ship, divil a one'll look near ye in six year; but if
ye don't, ye may take my word for ut, we'll have a
squadron layin' here."
"That's what I say," cried Tommy; "that's what I call
sense! Let's stock that whaleboat and be off.
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