“Booze!” said Flick, in virtuous condemnation.
“Not entirely,” said King O’Leary, shaking his head. “I’ve seen a lot of booze-fighters, and helped tuck some of them underground, but I never saw any rum hound just like this guy.”
“Maybe he’s murdered some one,” said Tootles cheerfully.
“That would be more like it.”
“Well, I think he’s a nut,” said Flick.
“And I think he’s one corker!” said Tootles enthusiastically.
“‘Corker’ is not English, Art,” said Flick.
“Quite right, old boy. I consider him a jolly good chap,” said Tootles. “We’d better have the girls in; we never can eat all this.”
At this moment there came a determined pounding on the wall.