There was a motley company present—toughs, drunken longshoremen, thieves and, that choice exotic, the young man taking in the town.
“Hello, Skip, what’s up?” said the red-faced barmaid. “Been taking a bath? Rather cold trick, I should say.”
“Hush up! Give me a drink.”
A bottle and glass were placed before Brodie, and, each time filling the glass to the brim, he tossed off three drinks of the fiery stuff in rapid succession.
“What’s up?”
The woman leaned over the bar as she spoke.
“The devil is to pay!” replied Skip. “Where is Jack?”
“In the other room.”
“Anyone with him?”
“Yes.”