They looked round. Over in the corner, with a heaped plate and two biscuits, gorging, was a man whose attire would have ousted him from any hotel in Regent Street or Broadway, but who was here a disgrace the other way round—shamelessly well done; a fat, cunning-looking man with lecherous eyes. It was probably his moustache that deluded Mike, for it was a little bit reminiscent, perhaps, of that other celebrated one, so handy for caricaturists.
"It's the night watchman—the night watchman," explained the Inquisitive One, who perhaps had seen him before and instituted inquiries.
"Bejabbers," said Mike, and putting down his empty cup and empty plate, he led an adjournment on deck.
CHAPTER VIII
There was a tensity in the "Push" that night, a sense of expectancy and foreboding, according to how they were constituted who felt it. There were minor squabbles. The lower deck gang had several to settle, and they never seemed to be settled. There was some slight friction in Candlass's gang also over the fact that, thanks to the whim of their straw-boss, they numbered three men less than the lower deck gang. Two of these three that had been made a gift of to Cockney were present when the subject was discussed, and the rising storm over that matter made several wonder where the third was—the youth in the long coat.
"Where's Four Eyes?" someone asked.
"Oh, to hell!" said several, which being interpreted means that they thought he was not worth worrying over.
Mike put his head on one side wondering, trying to remember if Four Eyes had been present in the crowd wrangling for food, but he could not remember, so he dismissed the subject. He was glad the fellow was out of his sight anyhow, and not in his gang. And as for defending himself in his action, which they now discussed, though he opened his mouth once or twice to do so, he desisted on each occasion. "Let them wrangle," his expression seemed to say. Charles, to give the Inquisitive One his name, was agitated; he had set this discussion agoing, and Mike's silence he began to feel as ominous. Mike was well aware that he had started the "grouse" about being three men short, and in an attempt to allay his forebodings, Charles now drew forth his mouth organ, and began to play. Some of the younger fry danced. One or two, who were mouth-organ experts, cocked their ears. They thought they could play every whit as well as the Inquisitive One. His rapid-fire eyes perceived this, and when he finished one tune, and these young men made a grab for the instrument, he leapt back snarling. There were shrieks of "Damn your eyes!" and "Half a mo'!" and "Give me a chance!" and "To hell with you!"
"Give us a lend of it then!"