sly. “Keep mind o’ the regulations!”
“Don’t get into trouble, whitever you do!” advised the engineer with a sardonic air.
Para Handy paid no heed to the engineer. He had sized up the Glasgow visitors as a most agreeable and vivacious party of fine young gentlemen whose acquaintance was well worth cultivating in the absence of more exhilarating elements in John Macalister’s bar.
“Where are ye bidin’?” he asked them abruptly, and was informed that the bell-tent round the point, on the shore, was to be their residence for another week.
“Capital!” said Para Handy. “A tent’s the very place for speakin’ your mind; ye never ken who’s aboot ye in a bar. Dougie and me’ll go roond to the tent at supper-time and tell ye things aboot the Mystery Ship that’ll make your blood run cold.”
“Right-ho!” said the Glasgow gentlemen with one accord.
“Mind ye!” warned the Captain, “strictly between oorsel’s! If the Admirality thocht that we wass blabbin’ the way we won the war, there would
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