dn't hurt
him till one on 'em stuck a pin in his leg to waken him up."

"Ah!" I cried. "Who did?"

"Well, sir," said Tom Jecks. "Now you do puzzle me above a bit. It was
one o' the lads, because the pin must have gone into his leg, for he
squeaked out and then run up the ladder with the tin-pot banging about
right and left, but who it was stuck that pin in, it were so dark that I
couldn't say."

"You mean that you won't say, Tom?"

"Well, sir, you're orficer, and I'm on'y AB, and I shan't contradict
you; have it that way if you like."

"I shall say no more, but we'll see what Mr Reardon says when he hears
about it."

"Why, Mr Herrick, sir, yo' wouldn't go and tell upon the poor lads,
would you? It were on'y a bit of a game, were it, Mr Ching?"

"No, only bit game," said the Chinaman.

"There, you hear, sir. There wasn't no bones broke."

"Hold your tongue, sir."

"Cert'n'y, sir."

"And come here."

Tom Jecks stepped forward obsequiously.

"Look, the tin sticks all round fast into the tail as if it were a
rabbit trap."

"Ay, sir, it do; and if I might say so, they managed it very cleverly."

"Cleverly?"

"Yes, sir. If I'd been doing it, I should on'y have thought of tying it
on with a bit o' spun-yarn; but this here tin holds it wonderful tight."

"How are we to get it off?"

"Oh, I can soon get it off," cried Tom Jecks, who seemed to be imbued
with the same notion as Alexander of old, who unsheathed his sword to
cut the Gordian knot. For he hauled out his knife by the lanyard,
opened the blade with his teeth, and took a step forward, but Ching held
the canister behind him and dodged round me.

"Steady, my lad," growled Tom Jecks, "it arn't a operation. Stand by."

"No, no, no!" shrieked Ching.

"Steady, my lad, I'll soon have it off. I won't cut down to the bone."

"No, no!" cried Ching, who was excited and alarmed, and who now began
chattering in his own tongue, all _pang ang nong wong ong_, and a series
of guttural sounds, while I could do nothing for laughing, but had to
stand like a post for Ching to dodge behind.

"Why don't you stand by, messmate?" growled Tom Jecks. "You can't go
through life with that there tin-kettle tied to your tail. Fust one as
see yer will be calling, `Mad dog.'"

By this time the watch had come to see what was going on, and I now
began to feel sorry for the Chinaman.

"Here, Ching," I said. "Come down below."

But he was too much alarmed for