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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Gordon Craig Soldier of Fortune"

Still, this situation, as revealed by
Broussard's complaints, would afford us a respite of at least four
hours. If this was the Creole's watch below, then Herman would keep
the deck. Even lying there at anchor those fellows would not leave the
crew alone. There was too much at stake, and besides there must still
remain a look-out ashore. However it was a relief to know that the
German had nothing of importance to communicate to Henley, no occasion
even to come below. Broussard sank back into a chair, watching the
frightened negro hurry back and forth. At last, satisfied that
everything available had been produced, the former strode across to the
table, jerked out a chair, and waved his hand toward me in invitation
to join him.
"The lazy dog! 'T is likely all you will get, M'sieur. Maybe you eat
with me--hey? Or would you wait for ze Capitaine?"
"I 'll take pot-lunch with you, Broussard," I agreed genially, speaking
loud enough so the negro would overhear. "I 've got to get accustomed
to camp fare, and am hungry enough to begin. Besides, Captain Henley
is laid up in his berth with a sick headache, and does n't wish to be
disturbed. He told me to tell you, Louis."
"Yes, sah! Shall Ah make you sum coffee, sah? Massa Broussard he
don't nebber drink none.


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