The American arose to his feet with little emotion save a return of his old disgust. He knew he could defend himself from any assault the crew might make in that condition. But they made none. They stopped a little way from him, some drunkenly grave, others winking or leering, some abusive and threatening.
"Go'n' tuh 'lect 'nother captain," announced Mulcher thickly. "You no reg'lar hofficer!"
"You 'it a man for 'elpin' you, and 'urt 'is eye!"
"Make 'im walk a plank!" flared out Galton, shaking a big fist at Leonard. "Make 'im walk a plank!" Leonard observed that the fellow's nose and forehead were badly bruised, and dark circles had settled under his eyes. He started for Madden, when Hogan caught him under the arms.
"Phwat you talkin' about, old scout? Walk a plank—you have to court martial him first."
"I don't b'lieve 'e can walk a plank," surmised a cockney gravely. "'E's too drunk; 'e'd fall hoff."
"Where's Farnol Greer, Mulcher?" snapped Madden disgustedly. "Is he drunk, too?"
"D-drunk—you don't think we're drunk, sor?"
"We 'ave been drinkin' a little, sor, but we're not drunk."
"Oi am," nodded Hogan, resting his chin on Galton's shoulder as if from deep affection.