"You are a fool to come out in it, I say. Return to the house, and I'll join you presently. There are three more bottles of prime stuff in the closet. Break one out and help yourself."
"But me dooty, man! It has never been said that—hic—Pat Cronin ever went back on a job. Ask me shipmates. Why, they sing er song about me:
"'So he seized th' capstan bar,
Like a true honest tar,
And in spite or tears and sighs
Sung yo! heave ho!'"
"Shut up; you will have the police after us," expostulated the other. "Do you intend to return to the house, or shall I lock up the bottles? Answer me, yes or no?"
"Sure and Oi don't want to lose th' drink, but——"
"Yes, or no?"