“Mr. O’Prien,” he said, “dis feller he wass one got-tam police-spy. What he want de police for? What he come putt in for? He call hisself mate of de Pathfinder, by Chesus. Py Chesus, I don’t pelieve one got-tam wort he say, py Chesus. And this got-tam yarn about a got-tam sting-ray. You see, fellers, he iss a spy. Dat’s what dis feller is: a spy. He tell de police and get us pinched.”
The black-eyed smiling sloucher slouched forward as the Scandinavian warmed to his appeal. His left hand shot out suddenly, caught him on the chest and slung him violently backward. The motion seemed effortless, but the strength used must have been that of a bull, for the Scandinavian went backwards tottering for five steps and then sat down. The other men laughed. The sloucher grinned at the Scandinavian.
“Come off with your folly,” he said. “Tell it to the marines but not to the deck department.”
The Scandinavian rose up whimpering and rubbing the sore place.
“Py Chesus, Doug,” he said, “if you wass not trunk, I make you pay for dat. It’s your being trunk saves you, py Chesus.”
“Well, I am drunk,” Douglas said, “I thank God I am drunk. I like being drunk: it’s so cadoodle. But let’s see this man who says he’s mate of the Pathfinder. Keep all fast with your enquiries till I’ve had a go at him.” He slouched up towards Sard, with his hands drooped down as before on the revolver-butts in his waistcoat pockets. His whole being seemed to slouch, to smile and to chew tobacco. He seemed to be chewing a sort of cud of tobacco. He seemed to give forth a gospel of slouching, smiling and chewing tobacco. He stood slouched before Sard, a man of immense strength, fearing nothing on earth and capable of any folly and any kindness. Sard could not place him, even yet, but the slouch was familiar; he had surely seen that grin before.
“ ’Arker, my bye,” Douglas began. Instantly a thrill shot through Sard, for the words “my bye,” spoken in that way, gave him a clue to the speaker. “ ’Arker, my bye, answer my question, my bye. Who’s the captain of the Pathfinder?”
“Captain Cary.”
“What mark has he got on the right side of his chin?”
“A mole; a dark brown mole.”