“I won’t go to that place with you,” he appealed, holding back.
“Well, you will.”
Will struggled and shouted for help, but the Captain only laughed at him.
“They are my friends yonder,” he said, “and your obstinacy won’t help you.”
Will was compelled to accompany him through the narrow entrance to the living rooms of the tavern.
A man, evidently the landlord, came to the door, but at a glance from Morris retired.
The latter entered a room that was dark, except where the light showed from a transom looking into an adjoining room.
From that apartment sounds of drinking and dispute arose.
The air was foul with tobacco smoke and the fumes of liquor.
Captain Morris flung Will into a chair and confronted him.