y chokey in the Colonies rather'n give up my rights...."

"You are a jail-prop," said Jimmy, weakly.

"I am... an' proud of it, too. You! You 'aven't the bloomin' nerve--so
you inventyd this 'ere dodge...." He paused; then with marked
afterthought accentuated slowly:--"Yer ain't sick--are yer?"

"No," said Jimmy, firmly. "Been out of sorts now and again this year,"
he mumbled with a sudden drop in his voice.

Donkin closed one eye, amicable and confidential. He whispered:--"Ye 'ave
done this afore'aven'tchee?" Jimmy smiled--then as if unable to hold back
he let himself go:--"Last ship--yes. I was out of sorts on the passage.
See? It was easy. They paid me off in Calcutta, and the skipper made no
bones about it either.... I got my money all right. Laid up fifty-eight
days! The fools! O Lord! The fools! Paid right off." He laughed
spasmodically. Donkin chimed in giggling. Then Jimmy coughed violently.
"I am as well as ever," he said, as soon as he could draw breath.

Donkin made a derisive gesture. "In course," he said, profoundly, "any
one can see that."--"They don't," said Jimmy, gasping like a fish.--"They
would swallow any yarn," affirmed Donkin.--"Don't you let on too
much," admonished Jimmy in an exhausted voice.--"Your little gyme? Eh?"
commented Donkin, jovially. Then with sudden disgust: "Yer all for
yerself, s'long as ye're right..."

So charged with egoism James Wait pulled the blanket up to his chin and
lay still for a while. His heavy lips protruded in an everlasting black
pout. "Why are you so hot on making trouble?" he asked without much
interest.

"'Cos it's a bloomin' shayme. We are put upon... bad food, bad pay... I
want us to kick up a bloomin' row; a blamed 'owling row that would make
'em remember! Knocking people about... brain us indeed! Ain't we men?"
His altruistic indignation blazed. Then he said calmly:--"I've been
airing yer clothes."--"All right," said Jimmy, languidly, "bring them
in."--"Giv' us the key of your chest, I'll put 'em away for yer," said
Donkin with friendly eagerness.--"Bring 'em in, I will put them away
myself," answered James Wait with severity. Donkin looked down,
muttering.... "What d'you say? What d'you say?" inquired Wait
anxiously.--"Nothink. The night's dry, let 'em 'ang out till the
morning," said Donkin, in a strangely trembling voice, as though
restraining laughter or rage. Jimmy seemed satisfied.--"Give me a little
water for the night in my mug--there," he said