Bill, who was keeping his money in his hand as the only safe place left to him, produced a penny and spun it in the air.
“Wait a bit,” said Ted, earnestly. “Wot time was you to call the old man?” he asked, turning to the cook.
“Toss up for it,” repeated that worthy, hurriedly.
“Six o’clock,” said Bob, speaking for him; “it’s that now, cookie. Better go an’ call ’im at once.”
“I dassent go like this,” said the trembling cook.
“Well, you’ll ’ave to,” said Bill. “If the old man misses the tide, you know wot you’ve got to expect.”
“Let’s follow ’im down,” said Ted. “Come along, cookie, we’ll see you righted.”
The cook thanked him, and, followed by the others, led the way down to interview the skipper. The clock ticked on the mantlepiece, and heavy snoring proceeded both from the mate’s bunk and the state-room. On the door of the latter the cook knocked gently; then he turned the handle and peeped in.
The skipper, raising a heavy head, set in matted hair and disordered whiskers, glared at him fiercely.
“What d’ye want?” he roared.