“There, don’t be hard on ’em, mates. They’re going to be reasonable. Now then, are you going to pay those twenty dollars each for your passages?”
“No,” I said, choking with rage.
“Yew don’t mean to go in the Pauliner?”
“No, we don’t,” cried Esau.
“Very well, then, yew must each on yew pay the smart. I paid for yew—ten dollars each, and tew fur my trouble. That’s fair, ain’t it, mates?”
“Ay, ay. Make ’em pay three dollars,” was chorussed.
“There, yew hear ’em, so out with the spots, and no more nonsents.”
“You won’t get no money out o’ me,” cried Esau, fiercely.
“Nor from me,” I cried.
“We’ll soon see that. Now quick!”