rey, sternly.

"Hark at him! Why, I never heard you talk that how afore, sir."

"You're dawdling on for some reason, Bob. You see, you owned that you
could make the raft seaworthy in five minutes."

"Ay, ay, my lad, but then she'd only be rough. I'm going on polishing
like, and making her a raft to be proud on. I said so afore."

"That's all stuff and nonsense, Bob," cried Carey. "I know. Now tell
the truth; you've some reason for being so long."

Bostock was silent, and he screwed up his mahogany-tinted face till he
looked ten years older.

"Come, sir, speak the truth."

"Allus does," said the old fellow, gruffly.

"Let's have it then. Why are you spinning out this job so long and
won't get it done?"

"Am I, sir--spinning it out like?"

"Yes, you know you are. Now, are you going to tell me why?"

"No, I aren't," growled the old fellow.

"Very well, but I believe I know."

"Not you, my lad. I tell you I'm going to make an out-and-out good job
of it."

"Keeping it back so as not to go till I'm well enough to go too. That's
why," said Carey, and he looked at the old sailor searchingly, and tried
to catch his eye, the one that was open, the other being close shut.
But it was impossible, for Bostock made believe to have great difficulty
in hitting that nail exactly on the head, and hammered away with all his
might.

"Now then, are you going to own it, sir?" cried Carey.

Bostock gave seven or eight final blows with the hammer as if he were
performing on an old-fashioned knocker, and finished off with a final
bang, before turning round, and with both eyes open now he said
defiantly:

"Own up, sir? No, I aren't, but there, she's finished now."

"Quite ready to go into the water?" said Carey.

"Yes," said the old fellow, bluntly; "she'd bear us and a load o' bricks
if we had 'em."

"And that's why you've kept her back," said Carey, half-mockingly, but
with a choking sensation in his throat--due to weakness perhaps.

"I aren't going to say naught," said the old fellow, gruffly.

"But you haven't polished her."

"No; I aren't," said Bostock, and he began to gather up his tools.

"But you can't be proud of such a rough thing as that."

Carey laughed at the queer look the old fellow gave.

"There," he cried, "didn't I say you were making believe?"

"Nay, that you didn't, sir. I never heard you."

"Here's Doctor Kingsmead coming up."

"Here, I say, don't you say a word to him, my lad