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"I've heard sea serpents can sting a man and numb him so he won't live or die," shivered Hogan, "like a spider stings a fly." They spoke in half whispers under the influence of the unknown terror. "If anything happens, I shall keel myself," declared Deschaillon, with nervous intensity, "but I shall see it first." "That's w'ot went with the other two crews killed theirselves," chattered Mulcher.
"Nothin' but a furnace in th' hold " "W'y don't hit smoke?" "'Ow do I know?" "Hit ain't a fire!" "W'ot is hit?" "Phosphescence, didn't you 'ear Mister Madden say!" "Will hit sink 'er?" Deschaillon gave a sharp laugh. "What sauvages!" By this time it became clear to everyone that it was not a fire.
"Oh, av course a frog-atin' Frinchman loike you, Dashalong, would think any kind av fish a reg'lar feast." Deschaillon leaned over to inspect his portion. "Now eet does very well to wax zee mustache, Mike." He twirled his own. Caradoc grunted disapproval of such doubtful table talk, arose and left the rough company and rough fare with supercilious condemnation.
The British Towing and Shipping Company was repaid for the loss of the Vulcan, and a prize of five hundred thousand dollars distributed among the tug's crew for sinking the submarine. Thus the dreams of wealth aroused by the ill-fated Minnie B were realized in a small way by the dock's crew. No doubt Deschaillon has his frog pond, old Mrs.
Upon inquiry, Leonard found it to be Deschaillon. The young man who read the articles was named Farnol Greer. However, he proved a silent, taciturn youth, who seemed to converse with no one and to have no friends. In the long narrow eating cabin mingled the clean smell of newly sawed lumber and the odor of poor cookery. The meal proved rather worse than ordinary steerage food.
And I'll tell you right now, I'm going to cut your rations one-third, too hear? Now, get out, all of you move out o' my cabin!" There was a shuffling among the navvies toward the arrowy lad who confronted them. Deschaillon balanced himself on one leg, French boxing fashion, ready to kick out with the deadly accuracy of an ostrich.
"Oi don't a ack loike it, you hic you couldn't tell it on me, b-but Oi Oi Oi'm drunk, aw roight." "I theenk Greer ees in the cook's galley," smiled Deschaillon, who appeared to be rational; then he added coolly: "Eef there ees any fighting, I weel help you, Meester Madden." "Cook's galley!" sputtered Mulcher. "'E's drinkin' hit ever' drop, lads; come on!" "An' th' grub, too!" added Hogan.
Greer," he said with cold evenness, "it is impossible to obtain swords or pistols on this dock. We will have to fight with our hands. Choose a second!" Greer nodded shortly. Both men got to their feet and both glanced at Madden. The American shook his head. "I can't serve for either of you. I'm in command here. I'm impartial." "Will you oblige me, Mr. Deschaillon?" asked Smith with a set face.
"I've 'card as 'ow this was a great place for derelicks." "'Ow could she be a derelick," argued Mulcher, "w'en she 'as so much canvas aloft? You run up on derelicks an' git sunk, ever' cove knows that." "I carn't think of hall these things at once!" retorted Galton. "Perhaps she ees the Vulcan under sail with deesabled engines?" suggested Deschaillon.
Caradoc lay dry and burning on the hot bunk, his big hands pressed to his forehead, eyes clenched shut. "I don't know what to do!" cried Madden miserably. "Hogan, Deschaillon, for God's sake, if you know anything about that medicine chest, tell me I'm not accusing anybody!" "Sure, sure," cried Hogan sympathetically, "Oi'm sorry Oi ain't got it.
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