“’E’s taken one suit and chucked the rest overboard, I expect, so as we sha’n’t be able to go arter ’im,” said Thomas. “I expect he could swim arter all, Bill.”
Bill, still busy with the British Army, paid no heed.
“We must go an’ tell the old man,” said Ted.
“Better be careful,” cautioned the cook. “‘Im an’ the mate ’ad a go at the whisky last night, an’ you know wot ’e is next morning.”
The men went up slowly on deck. The morning was fine, but the air, chill with a breeze from the land, had them at a disadvantage. Ashore, a few people were early astir.
“You go down, Thomas, you’re the oldest,” said Bill.
“I was thinking o’ Ted going,” said Thomas, “’e’s the youngest.”
Ted snorted derisively. “Oh, was you?” he remarked helpfully.
“Or Bob,” said the old man, “don’t matter which.”
“Toss up for it,” said the cook.