The second officer gazed at him, limp with astonishment, and then turned to the steersman, as though unable to believe his ears. The steersman pointed in front of him, and the other gave a cry of surprise and rage as he saw another tatterdemalion coming with uncertain steps toward him.
“Carson,” said the new arrival, feebly; and coming closer to his friend, clung to him miserably.
“I’m just having it out with ’em, Thomson,” said the doctor, energetically. “My friend here is a solicitor. Tell him what’ll happen if they don’t take us back, Harry.”
“You seem to be unaware, my good fellow,” said the solicitor, covering a large hole in the leg of his trousers with his hand, “of the very dangerous situation in which you have placed yourselves. We have no desire to be harsh with you—”
“Not at all,” acquiesced the doctor, nodding at the second officer.
“At the same time,” continued Mr. Thomson—“at the—” He let go his friend’s arm and staggered away; the doctor gazed after him sympathetically.
“His digestion is not all it should be,” he said to the second officer, confidentially.
“If you don’t get for’ard in two twos,” said that gentleman, explosively, “I’ll knock your heads off.”
The doctor gazed at him in haughty disdain, and taking the limp Thomson by the arm, led him slowly away.
“How did we get here?” asked Mr. Harry Thomson, feebly.