"Sir," he added hastily.
"That's better," I commented.
"Oh, my God, sir, don't let 'm come aft." Tom Spink muttered
hurriedly in my ear. "That'd be the end of all of us. And even if
they didn't get you an' the rest, they'd heave me over some dark
night. They ain't never goin' to forgive me, sir, for joinin' in
with the afterguard."
I ignored the interruption and addressed the gangster.
"There's nothing like going to work when you want to as badly as you
seem to. Suppose all hands get sail on her just to show good
intention."
"We'd like to eat first, sir," he objected.
"I'd like to see you setting sail, first," was my reply. "And you
may as well get it from me straight that what I like goes, aboard
this ship."--I almost said "hooker."
Nosey Murphy hesitated and looked to the Maltese Cockney for counsel.
The latter debated, as if gauging the measure of his weakness while
he stared aloft at the work involved. Finally he nodded.
"All right, sir," the gangster spoke up. "We'll do it . . . but
can't something be cookin' in the galley while we're doin' it?"
I shook my head.
Pages:
552
553
554
555
556
557
558
559
560
561
562
563
564
565
566
567
568
569
570
571
572
573
574
575
576