The first time one of you bats an eye, or even looks like batting an eye, he gets his.

D'ye get that?
Now get out.

Get along for'ard to the windlass." Mr.Pike turned on his heel, and I swung alongside of him as he moved aft.
"What do you make of them ?" I queried.
"The limit," he grunted.

"I know their kidney.

They've done time, the three of them.