"Huh," he said, his gruff voice strong as ever. "Christobal was not
humbugging me when he assured me you were all right. Where are we?"
"In a small bay on the east of Hanover Island. I have not taken any
observations yet, and there is no hurry, old chap. You 'll be out and
about long before we move again."
"Huh. D'ye think so? I know the beggar who knifed me. I 'll take it
out of him when I see him."
"You are better off than he, Boyle. Unless he is here with you, I
guess he is rolling on the floor of the Pacific by this time."
Boyle tried to turn and survey his fellow-sufferers; there was the fire
of battle in his eye. Courtenay restrained him with a laugh.
"A nice thing I am doing," he cried, "permitting you to talk, and
getting you excited. I believe you would punch the scoundrel now if he
were in the next berth. You must lie quiet, old man; doctor's orders;
he says you 're on the royal road if you keep on the easy list for a
day or so."'
Boyle smiled, and closed his eyes.
"I heard the anchors go, and then I knew that all was well. You 're
the luckiest skipper afloat.
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