I made enquiries about Moleskin Joe. Most of the men had met Moleskin lately, but they did not know where he was at the moment. Some said that he was in gaol, one that he was dead, and another that he was married. But I knew that if he was alive, and that if I stopped long enough in Moran's, I would meet him there, for most navvies pass that way more than once in their lives. I had, however, lost a great deal of interest in Moleskin's doings. There was only one thing for which I now lived, and that was the search for the girl whom I loved.
One morning about four o'clock I returned to my lodgings and stole upstairs to the bedroom, which contained three other beds in addition to mine. The three were occupied, and as I turned on the gas I took a glimpse of the sleepers. Two of them I did not know, but I gave a start of surprise when I caught a glimpse of the unshaven face showing over the blankets of the bed next to mine. I was looking at Moleskin Joe. I approached the bed. The man was snoring loudly and his breath was heavy with the fumes of alcohol. I clutched the blankets and shook the sleeper.
"Moleskin!" I shouted.
He grumbled out some incoherent words and turned over on his side.
"Moleskin!" I called again, and gave him a more vigorous shake.
"Lemme alone, damn you!" he growled. "There's a good time comin'——"
The sentence ended in a snore and Joe fell asleep again. I troubled him no further, but turned off the light and slipped into bed.
In the morning I woke with a start to find Joe shaking me with all his might. He was standing beside my bed, undressed, save for his trousers.
"Flynn!" he yelled, when I opened my eyes. "My great unsanctified Pontius Pilate, it's Flynn! Hurrah! May the walls of hell fall on me if I'm not glad to see you. May I get a job shoein' geese and drivin' swine to clover if this is not the greatest day of my life! Dermod Flynn, I am glad to see—— Great blazes, your hands are like the hands of a brothel slut!"
Joe left off his wild discourses and prodded the hand which I placed over the blankets with his knuckles. He was still half intoxicated, and a bottle three-quarters full of spirits was lying against the pillow of his bed.