'Got to go by me first, Davey. Never mind, lad; I'll leave you the cork to chew. That's right, Captain; hold your hand round it.'
Plang-ang!
'Bellringer's tight. Now then, Dave. Half for you, half for me. I'll have the big half, and you take the little 'un. What's that, Captain? I reckon I just will raise you.'
'Pass,' said Dave, clutching the bottle frantically.
'See you,' said the Captain, jerking his head forward over the table.
'Full house,' cried the Factor.
'Like us,' added the Captain. 'Good, Alf. Three kings.'
Plang-ang.
'What's that?' cried Dave, quickly.
'Why, the pesky bell, you old rocket. You're everlastingly raddled, Dave.'