CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.
THE KING'S CUTTER SPEAKS OUT.
"Ladle!" "Hullo!" "Wake up!" "What's the good?
We can't go on deck.

May as well lie here and rest." "Nonsense! Get up, or I'll pull you out by one leg!" "You touch me, and I'll send you flying against the bulkhead." "Go it!" cried Vince, who was standing on the rough floor, in his trousers; and, quick as thought, he seized Mike's leg and pulled him half out.

"Now kick, and I'll let you down bang." "Oh! I say, Cinder, let go! Don't, there's a good fellow." "Then will you get up ?" "Yes: all right.

Does it rain ?" "No--lovely morning; you can see it is through that bit of skylight." Mike slipped out and began to dress.
"Wonder what they've been doing in the night ?" "Don't know--don't care," said Vince, yawning.

"Oh, how horrid it is to be boxed up here like a rabbit! Can hardly breathe, and perhaps he won't let us out for hours.