THE CARGO SHIP 23

had a drink; the manager wrote a bill, and Phil
plucked at Younger's sleeve and said, "Go steady,
old man. Go steady." A madman came up and
threatened Younger, but Younger didn't understand,
didn't care anyway, didn't even hear perhaps. He
sat on a chair playing pat-paw with his stout black
bitch; sometimes he made a pass at her mouth, but
she avoided that, nudging with her elbow, pushing
forward her empty glass while the manager wrote out
another bill. Then it began all over again, the refusal
to pay, the arguments, Phil's "Go steady, old man,
go steady," another drink all round, pat-paw, "You
saucy little sausage," another bill. On the way to
the waterside he passed out altogether, had to be
carried, fourteen stone of him, into the rowing boat
in the dark, dragged up the rocking companion, un-
dressed and put to bed. But no one grudged it him,
he could do these things, next day he was as well as
ever, bathed in a costume which wouldn't meet across
him, called "Kipper, Kipper" in the passage, was
drunk by lunch-time, explained it was his last drink
before the Coast: he was going to work now. No one
believed him, but we were wrong.

He had the stamina of a bull; he could stop drink-
ing when he chose. The islands were past, next port
of call was on the Coast, he had work to do. Nobody
knew how far afield his work was taking him and of
its importance; he was fat and boisterous, one
couldn't tell from his manner the anxiety of ftis
journey. He was taking a big risk; he had to get
orders; and yellow fever was not going to stop him.
There was an epidemic at one of the points on his
route; he didn't know of it when he came on board;