"It would have been all hup with Tom, if it hadn't been for ther
gasket."
He paused. After a moment, he went on again.
"That was honly three or four nights ago!"
"Well," said Plummer. "What are yer drivin' at?"
"Nothin'," answered Stubbins. "Honly it's damned queer. Looks as though
ther ship might be unlucky, after all."
"Well," agreed Plummer. "Things 'as been a bit funny lately; and then
there's what's 'appened ter-night. I shall 'ang on pretty tight ther
next time I go aloft."
Old Jaskett took his pipe from his mouth, and sighed.
"Things is going wrong 'most every night," he said, almost pathetically.
"It's as diff'rent as chalk 'n' cheese ter what it were w'en we started
this 'ere trip. I thought it were all 'ellish rot about 'er bein'
'aunted; but it's not, seem'ly."
He stopped and expectorated.
"She hain't haunted," said Stubbins. "Leastways, not like you mean--"
He paused, as though trying to grasp some elusive thought.
"Eh?" said Jaskett, in the interval.
Stubbins continued, without noticing the query. He appeared to be
answering some half-formed thought in his own brain, rather than
Jaskett:
"Things is queer--an' it's been a bad job tonight. I don't savvy one bit
what Williams was sayin' of hup aloft. I've thought sometimes he'd
somethin' on 'is mind--"
Then, after a pause of about half a minute, he said this:
"_Who_ was he sayin' that to?"
"Eh?" said Jaskett, again, with a puzzled expression.
"I was thinkin'," said Stubbins, knocking out his pipe on the edge of
the chest. "P'raps you're right, hafter all."