The voice of the antimacassar worker broke the silence.
"Paint him all over with stripes of different-coloured paint, and let
him pretend he's mad, and didn't know how he got here," he said, with an
uncontrollable ring of pride at the idea, which was very coldly
received, Private Smith being noticeably hard on it.
"I know," said Billy shrilly, clapping his hands. "I've got it, I 've
got it. After he's chucked his clothes overboard to-night, let him go
overboard too, with a line."
"And tow him the rest o' the way, and chuck biscuits to him, I suppose,"
snarled Dan.
"No," said the youthful genius scornfully; "pretend he's been upset from
a boat, and has been swimming about, and we heard him cry out for help
and rescued him."
"It's about the best way out of it," said Joe, after some deliberation;
"it's warm weather, and you won't take no harm, mate. Do it in my watch,
and I'll pull you out directly."
"Wouldn't it do if you just chucked a bucket of water over me and SAID
you'd pulled me out," suggested the victim. "The other thing seems a
downright LIE."
"No," said Billy authoritatively, "you've got to look half-drowned, and
swallow a lot of water, and your eyes be all bloodshot."
Everybody being eager for the adventure, except Private Smith, the
arrangements were at once concluded, and the approach of night
impatiently awaited.
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