“Do ye think she'd overlook the whole west half o' th' sea, Galton?”
“She weel run against us eef she cooms thees way.”
“But she might not know we are in distress?”
“Disthress, is it ye're sayin'? We're not in disthress, ye loon. This is th' happiest day o' me loife.”
Leonard turned to the Irishman. “Hogan, go dip that flag on the jury mast—wiggle it up and down—let 'em know something is wrong—make 'em think we have the rickets if nothing else.”
Two men ran off with Hogan to the forward bridge; the others stared, waved, shouted and let their excitement bubble down.
“But I don't understand a sailing vessel in these waters,” speculated Leonard.
“Maybe it's a derelick?” surmised Galton. “I've 'card as 'ow this was a great place for derelicks.”
“'Ow could she be a derelick,” argued Mulcher, “w'en she 'as so much canvas aloft? You run up on derelicks an' git sunk, ever' cove knows that.”
