"Wot's up?" I ses.

"Sitting on something hard," he ses. "I wish people 'ud be more
careful."

He took a list to port and felt under the star-board side. Then he
brought his 'and up and tried to wipe the mud off and see wot he 'ad got.

"Wot is it?" I ses, with a nasty sinking sort o' feeling inside me.

"I don't know," he ses, going on wiping. "It's soft outside and 'ard
inside. It----"

"Let's 'ave a look at it," I ses, holding out my 'and.

"It's nothing," he ses, in a queer voice, getting up and steering for the
ladder. "Bit of oyster-shell, I think."

He was up that ladder hand over fist, with me close behind 'im, and as
soon as he 'ad got on to the wharf started to run to 'is ship.

"Good night, Bill," he ses, over 'is shoulder.

"Arf a moment." I ses, follering 'im.

"I must get aboard," he ses; "I believe I've got a chill," and afore I
could stop 'im he 'ad jumped on and run down to 'is cabin.

I stood on the jetty for a minute or two, trembling all over with cold
and temper. Then I saw he 'ad got a light in 'is cabin, and I crept