"I vill go," he said. "You don't bother," and forthwith slipped out.
The others were looking at him now, glancing with a queer, sharp interest and turning away when they met his eyes. It was as though he were a stranger.
"That was a queer thing last night," he said to the nearest.
"Yes," the other agreed, with a kind of haste.
They sat about at their meal, when the coffee had been brought by the volunteer, under the same constraint. He could not keep silent; he had to speak and make them answer.
"Where is he?" he asked abruptly.
"On de gratings," he was told. And the Swede who fetched the coffee added, "Sails is sowin' him up now already."
"We'll see the last of him to-day," said Slade. "He won't kick nobody again!"
There was a mutter of agreement, and eyes turned on Conroy again.
Slade smiled slowly.
"Yes, he keeck once too many times," said the Greek.