“How do you know the stick was mine?” O'Brien questioned. “Did you see ut, Johnny Sheehan?”
Johnny Sheehan, who was the youngest of the boys, did not answer.
“Did you see ut?” O'Brien next asked Mahoney.
“No, I didn't see ut.”
The men were muttering and growling.
“'Twas a fair drawin',” Sullivan said. “Ye had yer chanct an' ye lost, that's all iv ut.”
“A fair drawin',” the captain added. “Didn't I behold it myself? The stick was yours, O'Brien, an' ye may as well get ready. Where's the cook? Gorman, come here. Fetch the tureen cover, some of ye. Gorman, do your duty like a man.”
“But how'll I do it,” the cook demanded. He was a weak-eyed, weak-chinned, indecisive man.
“'Tis a damned murder!” O'Brien cried out.
“I'll have none of ut,” Mahoney announced. “Not a bite shall pass me lips.”