"Too much dry food," repeated Sam firmly. "A parrot--a grey parrot--
wants plenty o' sop. If it don't get it, it moults."
"It's had too much CAT" said the skipper fiercely, "and you know it, and
overboard it goes."
"I don't believe it was the cat, sir," interposed the other man; "it's
too soft-hearted to do a thing like that."
"You can shut your jaw," said the skipper, reddening. "Who asked you to
come down here at all?"
"Nobody saw the cat do it," urged the mate.
The skipper said nothing, but, stooping down, picked up a tail feather
from the floor, and laid it on the table. He then went on deck, followed
by the others, and began calling, in seductive tones, for the cat. No
reply forth coming from the sagacious animal, which had gone into
hiding, he turned to Sam, and bade him call it.
"No, sir, I won't 'ave no 'and in it," said the old man. "Putting aside
my liking for the animal, _I'M_ not going to 'ave anything to do with
the killing of a black cat."
"Rubbish!" said the skipper.
"Very good, sir," said Sam, shrugging his shoulders, "you know best, o'
course. You're eddicated and I'm not, an' p'raps you can afford to make
a laugh o' such things. I knew one man who killed a black cat an' he
went mad. There's something very pecooliar about that cat o' ours.
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