"Which one?" asked Hicks.
"There you 'ave me," replied the man. "Ye see, I was drunk an' it were a dark night. Don't know as I'd know 'im widout puttin' a few questions." He took a couple of steps toward the open window. Hicks put the remaining portion of the sandwich into his mouth, and shifted the rifle.
"Ease off that thar gun a p'int or two," cried the sailor.
Hicks had been taught, while young, not to talk with his mouth full. So he made no answer.
"I ain't looking fer no trouble," said the seaman. "All I want is ter come aboard an' 'ave a quiet jaw wid you and yer mates, afore this blasted old craft 'awls down 'er colours."
"What about?" asked Hicks.
"That thar dimund, skipper," replied the man, with an evil grin.
Hicks changed colour. O'Rourke stuck his head out of the window. He glared at the man in the blue shirt for several seconds.
"Belay that talk," he said, "and stop up the slack of it neat and shipshape."
The man of the sea rolled his eyes in pained astonishment.