It was in this gay humour that he crossed the threshold. Within he saw a long oilcloth-covered table reaching across the room, with half a score of men sitting about it on boxes.
"Hey, fellows! Look who's here!" cried Mahooley.
A chorus of derisive welcome, more or less good-natured, greeted the new-comer.
"Why, if it ain't Sammy the stolen kid!"
"Can I believe my eyes!"
"There's pluck for you, boys!"
"You bet! Talk about walking up to the cannon's mouth!"
"Look out, Sam! The rope and the gag are ready!"
"Don't be askeared, kid, I'll pertect you from violence!"
Sam's new-found assurance was proof against their laughter.