Rafferty, with an evil oath, demanded Scholar, and Cockney, for a moment, had the air of veering round again, then he grinned and was silent. Candlass said something that nobody caught.
"Oh, all right—go ahead!" growled Rafferty. "Let Mike have him, and you take that fellow there with the hat—and that thin fellow with the impudent eyes." This was Jack, who could quelle-heure-est-il.
Mike then picked another; Cockney looked round, and Jack's partner, of his own accord, stepped over beside Jack.
"What t'ell? O, hall right!" said Cockney.
Things went fairly smoothly thereafter, till it came to the last shamed few—at least most of them seemed shamed; only a small number appeared to look upon the lack of desire for them with unmixed levity. Apparently the sign-on had been an even one; two men were left. It was Mike's choice. Suddenly an odd cough drew everybody's attention; and there, foolish behind them, was the youth in the long coat, the spectacles, and the leggings. Mike stared at him.
"Oh, be jabbers! Come here, me lad!" he said. Some laughed; others said: "What the hell are you laughin' at the poor feller for?" Mike stepped forward and put a hand on Four Eyes' shoulder, and an arm out behind the two remaining pick-pockets who stood together, and herded them, all three, like a man driving pigs, herded them across to Cockney's side. Cockney's receding under jaw hung down, his eyes goggled under the bandage he had tied over his forehead, covering the mark of the taffrail.
"I give ye a prisent of them," said Mike. "The three of 'em." Some of his underlings grumbled. He looked slowly round at them. "Whaat?" he asked. "Would ye not prefer to be short-handed than disgraced?"
"That's hall right!" cried Cockney. "Any ole thing fer me!"
So that was all quite satisfactory.