"Not much gets by you," commented Cadogan.
"It's my business. I'll have to write a story about this later."
"Women and children!" called the officer.
The boat was filled, except for a space for ship's men and the officer in charge, who stepped quickly in. This boat went down likewise in jumps and jerks.
In the next boat two men passengers jumped in at the last moment. The officer in charge seemed not to see them. The crew said nothing.
"Must have friends at court," muttered Meade. "Though why anybody should choose the staying out all night, half frozen, in those boats I don't understand, do you? But look—there's the Major marshalling his battalions. Old ladies and young, pretty and otherwise—instinctively gallant, the Major," observed Meade.
"We'll remember your friends in New York, Major!" two of the younger ones chorussed.
"Be sure you do!" he retorted. "And pay your bet with a box of candy when you're back aboard in the morning. But take care you keep those rugs around your feet in the meantime." He waved them smilingly down the side of the ship, but he was not smiling when he had turned his back to the ship's side, and made his way into the crowd of passengers.
Cadogan shrank back of Meade. It was Miss Huttle who had stepped into the light, with Drissler in attendance. And not alone Drissler. She was fully dressed, with heavy furs in addition. Her smile was not less frequent, and apparently her tongue no less ready than usual, when she replied to the sallies of her escorts.
The blocks were knocked away clumsily, the falls overhauled bunglingly for the next boat. Cadogan ached to jump in and show them how to do it.