assy, with his ear against the door of Jack's cabin, listened
critically to a deep stertorous breathing within. This was a dead-drunk
sleep. The bout was over: tranquilized on that score, he too went in,
and with slow wriggles got out of his old tweed jacket. It was a garment
with many pockets, which he used to put on at odd times of the day,
being subject to sudden chilly fits, and when he felt warmed he would
take it off and hang it about anywhere all over the ship. It would
be seen swinging on belaying-pins, thrown over the heads of winches,
suspended on people's very door-handles for that matter. Was he not the
owner? But his favorite place was a hook on a wooden awning stanchion on
the bridge, almost against the binnacle. He had even in the early days
more than one tussle on that point with Captain Whalley, who desired the
bridge to be kept tidy. He had been overawed then. Of late, though, he
had been able to defy his partner with impunity. Captain Whalley never
seemed to notice anything now. As to the Malays, in their awe of that
scowling man not one of the crew would dream of laying a hand on the
thing, no matter where or what it swung from.

With an unexpectedness which made Mr. Massy jump and drop the coat
at his feet, there came from the next berth the crash and thud of a
headlong, jingling, clattering fall. The faithful Jack must have dropped
to sleep suddenly as he sat at his revels, and now had gone over chair
and all, breaking, as it seemed by the sound, every single glass and
bottle in the place. After the terrific smash all was still for a time
in there, as though he had killed himself outright on the spot. Mr.
Massy held his breath. At last a sleepy uneasy groaning sigh was exhaled
slowly on the other side of the bulkhead.

"I hope to goodness he's too drunk to wake up now," muttered Mr. Massy.

The sound of a softly knowing laugh nearly drove him to despair. He
swore violently under his breath. The fool would keep him awake all
night now for certain. He cursed his luck. He wanted to forget his
maddening troubles in sleep sometimes. He could detect no movements.
Without apparently making the slightest attempt to get up, Jack went on
sniggering to himself where he lay; then began to speak, where he had
left off as it were--

"Massy! I love the dirty rascal. He would like to see his poor old Jack
starve--but just you look where he has climbed to." . . . He hiccoughed
in a superior, leisurely manner. .