“Right, thash right. Phone’s locked up, anyway.”
“But you know what that big stupe said? He said he’d be able to make the call in spite of that, because he knew that if he gave you five dollars you’d give him the key.”
The mate’s brow darkened.
“He’sh a liar,” he mumbled. “Never take bribe.”
“He said you did,” Cookie rushed on eagerly. “In fact, he showed me the key.”
“Liar!” the mate repeated. “He’sh liar!” He leaned forward drunkenly and with a knowing leer on his face, he tapped Cookie on the knee. “I’ll prove it,” he mumbled. “Prove he’sh liar.” He fumbled in his side pocket. Then he drew out a bunch of keys on a ring. “Here’sh key!” he gloated, swaying as he attempted to thump his chest. “Gunnar’s big liar. Mr. Briggs don’t take bribes.”
“Well, well,” Cookie said, shaking his head as though grieved. “To think he’d tell me a big one like that. Here, mate, have another drink.”
But the mate did not answer.
His head had sagged forward on his chest. Raising his voice, Cookie repeated his request. But the mate still did not reply.
With a glance of utmost contempt, Cookie reached forward and grasped his shoulder and shook him gently.