Ratcliffe laughed.
“I forgot I was in my pajamas. I must apologize.”
“What’s pajamas?”
“My sleeping suit.”
“You sleep in them things?”
“Of course.”
“Well, I’m damned!” said the boy. Then he gave a sudden yell of laughter and vanished, sitting down on the deck evidently, while another form appeared at the rail, a lantern-jawed, long-haired, youthful figure, rubbing the sleep out of its eyes. It stared at the occupant of the dinghy, then it opened its mouth and uttered one word:
“Moses!”
“He sleeps in them things!” came a half-strangled voice from the deck. “Satan, hold me up, I’m dyin’!”
“Shut your beastly head!” said Satan. Then to Ratcliffe, “Don’t be minding Jude,—Jude’s cracked,—but you sure are gotten up—Say, you from that hooker over there?”