"Stand from under, you, Johansen! Watch out! Here she comes!" In truth, Harrison was very sick, as a person is sea-sick; and for a long time he clung to his precarious perch without attempting to move.
Johansen, however, continued violently to urge him on to the completion of his task.
"It is a shame," I heard Johnson growling in painfully slow and correct English.

He was standing by the main rigging, a few feet away from me.
"The boy is willing enough.

He will learn if he has a chance.

But this is--" He paused awhile, for the word "murder" was his final judgment.
"Hist, will ye!" Louis whispered to him, "For the love iv your mother hold your mouth!" But Johnson, looking on, still continued his grumbling.
"Look here," the hunter Standish spoke to Wolf Larsen, "that's my boat-puller, and I don't want to lose him." "That's all right, Standish," was the reply.

"He's your boat-puller when you've got him in the boat; but he's my sailor when I have him aboard, and I'll do what I damn well please with him." "But that's no reason--" Standish began in a torrent of speech.
"That'll do, easy as she goes," Wolf Larsen counselled back.