"No, no," he cried, dragging the long plait from my hand; "mightee cut tow-chang, and that velly dleadful. Take long time glow."

"Very well, then. I'll unfasten it, and show it to Mr Reardon."

"What for? make Mis' Leardon velly angly, scold jolly sailor boy. Then they not like Ching 'tall."

"But it's too bad; treating you just as if you were a dog."

"Jolly sailor boy tie tin-pot dog tow-chang? No. Mr h.e.l.lick make laugh. Dog not got tow-chang."

"No," I said, trying very hard to get the pot off, "but dogs have got tails."

"Yes, got tails. Don't tellee, make no good. Didn't hurt Ching."

"But it's an insult to you," I said. "Any one would think they were a pack of boys."

"Yes, jolly sailor boy. You no makee come off?"

"No," I said. "They've made a big hole through the bottom of the canister, pushed the end of the tail--"

"Tow-chang."

"Well, tow-chang, if you like to call it so--through into the inside, and then hammered the tin back round it and made it as fast as fast.

Here, I shall have to cut it, Ching."

"No, no," he cried, seizing the canister. "No cuttee piece of tow-chang."

"Then how are we to get it off?"

"Don't know, Mr h.e.l.lick; look velly bad?"

"Horrible--absurd; every one will laugh at you."

"Yes, velly bad. Ching put it in pocket."

"Oh, you're there, are you?" I cried, as Tom Jecks came cautiously on deck. "I should have thought that a man of your years would have known better than to help torment this poor Chinaman."

"Not velly poor," he whispered. "Ching got fancee shop. Plenty plize-money now."

"Didn't have nought to do with it," growled Tom Jecks.

"Then who did, sir?"

"Dunno, sir; some o' the boys. I was caulking till they wakened me wi'

laughing."

"But you saw it done?"

"No, sir; it was all done aforehand. They'd turned his tail into a bull-roarer, and if you was to swing it round now like a windmill, it would make no end of a row."

"Silence, sir," I cried. "It's disgraceful."

"Lor', sir, they on'y meant it for a bit of a lark."

"Then they should lark among themselves, and not take advantage of a poor foreigner whom they ought to protect."

"Yes, sir, that's right enough. But he were asleep, and it didn't hurt him till one on 'em stuck a pin in his leg to waken him up."

"Ah!" I cried. "Who did?"

"Well, sir," said Tom Jecks. "Now you do puzzle me above a bit. It was one o' the lads, because the pin must have gone into his leg, for he squeaked out and then run up the ladder with the tin-pot banging about right and left, but who it was stuck that pin in, it were so dark that I couldn't say."

"You mean that you won't say, Tom?"

"Well, sir, you're orficer, and I'm on'y AB, and I shan't contradict you; have it that way if you like."

"I shall say no more, but we'll see what Mr Reardon says when he hears about it."

"Why, Mr Herrick, sir, yo' wouldn't go and tell upon the poor lads, would you? It were on'y a bit of a game, were it, Mr Ching?"

"No, only bit game," said the Chinaman.

"There, you hear, sir. There wasn't no bones broke."

"Hold your tongue, sir."

"Cert'n'y, sir."

"And come here."

Tom Jecks stepped forward obsequiously.

"Look, the tin sticks all round fast into the tail as if it were a rabbit trap."

"Ay, sir, it do; and if I might say so, they managed it very cleverly."

"Cleverly?"

"Yes, sir. If I'd been doing it, I should on'y have thought of tying it on with a bit o' spun-yarn; but this here tin holds it wonderful tight."

"How are we to get it off?"

"Oh, I can soon get it off," cried Tom Jecks, who seemed to be imbued with the same notion as Alexander of old, who unsheathed his sword to cut the Gordian knot. For he hauled out his knife by the lanyard, opened the blade with his teeth, and took a step forward, but Ching held the canister behind him and dodged round me.

"Steady, my lad," growled Tom Jecks, "it arn't a operation. Stand by."

"No, no, no!" shrieked Ching.

"Steady, my lad, I'll soon have it off. I won't cut down to the bone."