Dead Men Tell No Tales



“Hillo! here’s another of them,” cried he. “Out you come, young fellow! Your mates are all dead men.”

“They’re not my mates.”

“Never mind; come you out and let’s have a look at you.”

I did so, and was confronted by a short, thickset man, who recognized me with a smile, but whom I failed to recognize.

“I might have guessed it was Mr. Cole,” said he. “I knew you were here somewhere, but I couldn’t make head or tail of you through the smoke.”


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“Hillo! here’s another of them,” cried he. “Out you come, young fellow! Your mates are all dead men.”

“They’re not my mates.”

“Never mind; come you out and let’s have a look at you.”

I did so, and was confronted by a short, thickset man, who recognized me with a smile, but whom I failed to recognize.

“I might have guessed it was Mr. Cole,” said he. “I knew you were here somewhere, but I couldn’t make head or tail of you through the smoke.”


596 of 682