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In Clive's Command - A Story of the Fight for India by Herbert Strang
page 87 of 495 (17%)
the cadet's head. Ay, 'twas a pretty pictur', the greasy yellow stuff
runnin' down over his powdered hair an' lace collar an' fine blue coat.
My eye! there was a rare old shindy, the cadet cursin' and splutterin',
the others laughin' fit to bust 'emselves. The cadet out with his fists,
but there, 'twas no manner o' use. Mr. Clive bowled him over like a
ninepin till he lay along deck all pea soup an' gore. There was no more
baitin' o' Mr. Clive that voyage.

"'Bo'sun,' says I, 'what did I tell you? I may be wrong, but that young
Mr. Bob Clive'll be a handful for the factors in Fort St. George.'"

While this narrative had been in progress, Desmond was walking with
Bulger and his mates back towards the river.

"How was it you happened to be hereabouts so early?" asked Desmond. "I
didn't expect to see you till tomorrow."

Bulger winked.

"You wouldn't axe if you wasn't a landlubber, meanin' no offense," he
said. "'Tis last night ashore. We sailor men has had enough o' Waterman's
Rests an' such like. To tell you the truth, we gave Mr. Toley the slip,
and now we be goin' to have a night at the Crown an' Anchor."

"What about the press gang?"

"We takes our chance. They won't press me, sartin sure, 'cos o' my
tenterhook here, and I'll keep my weather eye open, trust me for that."

Here they parted company. Desmond watched the jolly crew as they turned
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