The girl looked at him, pensive, having caught part of this. She moved nearer to the manager, and they whispered; Charlie eyed them.
"I'm going to slide," he murmured, and half rose off his chair.
The girl and the manager drew apart, and the latter took up the thread again.
"Just come off a ship?" he enquired.
"Yes, a cattle boat," replied Scholar.
"Don't tell him which one," whispered the Inquisitive One. And then, next moment: "No, tell him, tell him, because he'll find out, and it'll make it worse."
Scholar, applying himself to his breakfast, said: "We've just come off the Glory."
"The Glory? Oh, that's one of the Saint Lawrence Transport, isn't it?"
Charlie rose from his chair, and then sat down again. The manager suddenly dived from behind his counter and ran outside. The Inquisitive One eyed the door. He wondered if it might not be better to rush now; but the manager's voice could be heard outside, and then he dived in again.
"Where's that—oh, yes, here!" and he lifted the fifty-cent piece from the counter and handed it to a red-faced man who followed him.