human
None o' them games, Mr Dale, sir,
gpt
Anything the matter?
human
Not much, sir, growled the sailor;
gpt
Why, Dale! cried Mr Brymer, hurrying up from where he had been forward examining the hose left by the mutineers after their feeble attempt to extinguish the fire,
human
Yes, I said faintly, as I pressed my hands over my forehead;
gpt
I suppose it was that.
human
Some'at queer burning below, sir,
gpt
Or the gas from the combustion,
human
Pretty nigh combusted him, sir, if I hadn't got hold on his arm.
gpt
Well, it's a warning for us, said Mr Brymer.
human
Now then, come and pass this hose along.