He rolled off down the road, and the two men, the simple traditions of whose lives forbade them to leave a shipmate when in that condition, followed him, growling. For half an hour they walked with him through the silent streets of the little town. Dick with difficulty repressing his impatience as the stout seaman bent down at intervals and thoroughly searched doorsteps and other likely places for the missing man. Finally, he stopped in front of a small house, walked on a little way, came back, and then, as though he had suddenly made up his mind, walked towards it.
“Hold him, cook!” shouted Dick, throwing his arms around him.
The cook flung his arms round Sam’s neck, and the two men, panting fiercely, dragged him away.
“Now you come aboard, you old fool!” said Dick, losing his temper; “we’ve had enough o’ your games.”
“Leg go!” said Sam, struggling.
“You leave that knocker alone, then,” said Dick warningly.
“’E’s in there!” said Sam, nodding wisely at the house.
“You come back, you old fool!” repeated Dick. “You never ’ort to ’ave nothin’ stronger than milk.”
“Ole my coat, cookie!” said Sam, his manner changing suddenly to an alarming sternness.
“Don’t be a fool, Sam!” said the cook entreatingly.