Howsomever, we
don't choke to death on apple-jack, when we can get enough on't," argued
Bird Riley.
"Jest now you got a tandem team hitched up out on the Trafladagar and
the West Wind," continued Christy cautiously, and with apparent
indifference, drawing the mate of the schooner back to the matter in
which he was the most deeply interested. "What's this team hitched up
that way for? Is the steamer go'n' to tow the schooner up to Mobile?"
"I reckon you're a little more'n half drunk, Tom Bulger," replied Bird
Riley, with a vigorous horse laugh. "Tow the schooner up to Mobile!
Didn't I tell yer the Trafladagar's been waiting here three days for a
good chance to run out?"
"You said that as true as you was born," added Graines, who thought it
necessary to say something, for he had been nearly silent from the
beginning.
"Sam Riley ain't quite so drunk as you be, Tom Bulger; an' he knows
what's what; and thar he shows the Riley blood in his carcass," chuckled
the mate.
"And you said the West Wind was loaded with cotton, in the hole and on
deck," added Graines, hoping to hurry the conference along a little more
rapidly.
"That's jest what I said. I reckon you ain't much used to apple-jack,
fur it fusticates your intelleck, and makes yer forget how old y'are.
Come, take another, jest to set your head up right," said Bird, passing
the bottle to Christy, who was doing his best to keep up the illusion by
talking very thick, and swaying his body about like a drunken man.
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