"Ay, ay," cried the Bo's'n. "Let the old gal rip."
Bill had been of the same opinion a moment before; but this indecent readiness to be beaten by an old woman was more than he could share or bear. He told his mate so in highly abusive terms. They retorted that he was beaten by that same old woman himself. Bill was not so sure of that; what about the bedroom with the boots outside? Nobody had looked in there.
A brisk debate ensued, in which the voice of Simons rose loudest. Bill, on the other hand, spoke in a much lower tone than usual; his words did not penetrate into the store; it was as though they were meant not to. And yet it was Bill who presently cried aloud:
"Then that's agreed. We all three go together to rouse her up anyhow, whether the old gal's there or whether she isn't. Come on!"
Apparently they went then and there.
"Nice for me!" whispered Naomi. "Nice for us both, Mrs. Potter, if we weren't safe——"
A bovine roar seemed to burst from their very midst. It was Bill outside the door.
"Tricked 'em, by God!" he yelled. "Here they are. Never mind that room. I tell you they're here—both of 'em; I heard 'em whispering."
"Bill, you're a treat," said the Bo's'n, running up. "I never saw such a man——"
"Where's Simons?"