“Oh?” said the old man coldly.
“Well, settle it between you,” said Bill carelessly, “it’s all one to me, which of you goes.”
“Ho, an’ what about you?” demanded Simpson.
“Me?” inquired Bill in astonishment. “Why, I’ve got to stay up here and manage it.”
“Well, we’ll stay up and help you,” said Simpson derisively.
Ned and the cook laughed, Simpson joined in. Bill rose, and going to his bunk, fished out a pack of greasy cards from beneath his bedding.
“Larst cut, sooicide,” he said briefly. “I’m in it.”
He held the pack before the cook. The cook hesitated, and looked at the other two.
“Don’t be a fool, Bill,” said Simpson.
“Why, do you funk it?” sneered Bill.