"'Good idee!' kughs old Red Beard, and he throws his arms round the fat chap.
"'This'll smother him!' he roars. 'Now, boys, follow up!'
"And down he charge on the Genelman, Fat George in his arms."
For a moment the ghost of the old Knapp walked.
"Fat George weren't for avin it, Fat George weren't," he sniggered, shaking his head. "And I don't blame Fat George neether. Talk!—talk o talkin!—and the face on him!"
He lifted one hand and tittered.
"Old Red Beard stagger in along—just his beard, and his eyes, and his legs beneath, and them hairy arms of is'n like ropes round the fat chap's belly.
"'Your turn now, ole pal,' says he. 'How d'ye like it yourself?' And somehow I fancies he and Fat George hadn't been best friends.
"Well, I see it was all up then, and the Genelman see it too.
"'Shut the door, Soldier,' says he, very calm, 'and yourself inside of it.'