"Well, didn't yer never see a feller with a valise before?"
They rose and crowded round the bunk of the distracted Frenchman.
"When did yer miss it, Pierre?" asked one.
"Valise—gone!" said the Frenchman.
"When did you miss it? Long ago?"
"Valise—gone! Pooh!"
"'E can't talk English! Let me try," said Cockney. "Wen your valise gone, heh? Long time—you sleep? Wen you miss, heh? Wen your valise pooh?" and Cockney very seriously imitated the gesture that signified disappearance.
The Frenchman sat up and stared at him; the other well-meaning drunkards clustered round, waiting the reply to Cockney's question.
"Gee! Can't anybody talk his lingo? Where's that feller Jack—Boston Jack? He can talk it."
"Liverpool Jack you mean—a long, thin feller. Walks like this." The speaker drew up his jacket behind so that it wrinkled round his waist, and canted back his shoulders.