"Yep! More," craved Jake.
"Nothin' doin'! You've had enough, you old booze-fighter.
"Say! How's that top-notcher swell Bremner comin' on?"
He turned to me.
"Let's fill him up, too."
They came over to me, but I pretended still to be unconscious. My head was limply bent over my chest.
They jerked it up by my forelock and looked into my face.
The foulness of their breath almost nauseated me, but I stood the test, keeping my eyes tightly closed and allowing my head to flop forward the moment it was released from their clutch.
"What in the hell did you hit him so hard for?" cried the leader, turning savagely to the man at his left elbow. "We ain't lookin' for any rope-collars over this. Guess we'd better beat it. Get busy with that chest some of you. Come on!"
They raised their masks from their mouths and had another drink all round, then two of them, under the big man's directions, caught up the chest, and they all crowded out and down toward their boat.