“But what I was saying, mates, was as I don’t think we tried hard enough to find Mr Lane. We ought to have done something.”
“Ay; but how are you going to do it?” said Wriggs, shortly, just as the man’s words had gone like a pang through Drew’s breast, making him feel that even the men were judging him adversely. “That’s the worst o’ you clever ones: you says, says you, ‘We ought to do some’at,’ but you don’t say what.”
“That’s a true word, Billy Wriggs,” cried Smith, clapping his messmate on the shoulder, “they don’t say what. Why, ’fore you chaps come, Mr Panton and Mr Drew—”
“And Tommy Smith,” growled Wriggs.
“Well, I did try a bit, mate, and so did you, till we couldn’t do no more. I don’t believe a hangel could ha’ done more than Billy did.”
“Oh, I say, mate,” grumbled Wriggs, modestly.
“I says it again, ‘could ha’ done more than Billy did.’ But it’s like this here, mates, the onpossible’s just a bit too hard for a man to do, and whether he likes it or whether he don’t, he’s got to put up with it, and that’s what clever people calls flossify.”
“And quite rightly, my man,” said Drew, coming close up. “Smith and Wriggs behaved like brave, true men, my lads.”
“Easy, sir, please. We only tried same as you did.”
“You think, then, that we tried everything that was possible to save my friend?”