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Dirty Work - Deep Waters, Part 11. by W. W. Jacobs
page 16 of 19 (84%)
and went and rocked one of my neighbour's bee-hives next door, and I
thought my last hour 'ad come."

He sat on that box and shivered at the memory of it.

"Now I take Dr. Pepper's pellets instead," he ses. "I've got a box in my
state-room, and if you'd like to try 'em you're welcome."

He sat there talking about the complaints he had 'ad and wot he 'ad done
for them till I thought I should never have got rid of 'im. He got up at
last, though, and, arter telling me to always wear flannel next to my
skin, climbed aboard and went below.

I knew the hands was aboard, and arter watching 'is cabin-skylight until
the light was out, I went and undressed. Then I crept back on to the
jetty, and arter listening by the Peewit to make sure that they was all
asleep, I went back and climbed down the ladder.

It was colder than ever. The cold seemed to get into my bones, but I
made up my mind to 'ave that twelve quid if I died for it. I trod round
and round the place where I 'ad seen that purse chucked in until I was
tired, and the rubbish I picked up by mistake you wouldn't believe.

I suppose I 'ad been in there arf an hour, and I was standing up with my
teeth clenched to keep them from chattering, when I 'appened to look
round and see something like a white ball coming down the ladder. My
'art seemed to stand still for a moment, and then it began to beat as
though it would burst. The white thing came down lower and lower, and
then all of a sudden it stood in the mud and said, "Ow!"

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