"No; and I'll tell you why we ain't likely to see his Letters of Marque: because he ain't got any."
This statement, delivered with all the confidence of one who knew, produced an effect. The men stared at each other with puzzled faces.
"'Ow the blazes do you know?" asked one of the men angrily.
"Because the British Government haven't granted any for this war," answered the agitator. "They're chartering merchant steamers and arming 'em themselves. Commerce-destroyers they call them, but they're really Government-owned privateers."
"Who told you so?" queried a sceptic.
"Don't ask me, read the papers and see for yourself," answered Skelt.
"Ho yus, I forgot all about me Sunday paper!" ejaculated another member of the audience sarcastically. "Boy, give me a Lloyds and the Observer."
A roar of unrestrained laughter went up at this witticism, and the orator had some ado to master his wrath.
"It's all very well to laugh about it now," he said heatedly. "But wait till later on; wait till this lunatic who calls himself a Captain sinks one or two vessels; wait till he's called upon to show his papers—then you'll change your tune, my merry clinker-knockers!"
"What the 'ell does it matter to us, anyway?" asked someone.