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end of the chorus. The last shout of the chorus was given with such vigour that Larry O'Hale was unable to restrain himself. He flung open the door, leaped into the room with a cheer and a yell that caused every man to spring up and seize the nearest weapon, and Captain Dall, in a burst of fiery indignation, was in the act of bringing a huge mass of firewood down on the Irishman's skull when Will Osten sprang in and arrested his arm. At the same moment Muggins recognised his old messmate, and, rushing at him, seized him with a hug worthy of a black bear! To describe the scene of surprise, confusion, and delight that followed were impossible. The questions put that were never answered; the answers given to questions never put; the exclamations; the cross purposes; the inextricable conglomeration of past, present, and future history--public, personal, and local; uttered, ejaculated and gasped, in short, or incomplete, or disjointed sentences--all this baffles description. After a few minutes, however, they quieted down, and, while the new arrivals attacked the roast of beef, their former messmates talked incessantly, and all at once! "You're the laird of a splendid estate of rocks and scrub," said Captain Dall to Will. "Not to mention the river," replied Will, smiling. "Without fish in it, ha!" groaned Cupples. "But lots o' goold," suggested Larry, with a wink; "give us a drop o' yer grog, lads, it's dry work meetin' so many friends all at wanst." "Nothin' but water here!" said Muggins. "What! wos ye singin' like that on cowld wather?" "We wos!" returned Muggins. "An' what's more," said Old Peter, "we've got used to it, an' don't feel the want of grog at all. `What's in a name,' as Jonathan Edwards says in his play of `Have it yer own way,' or somethin' like that. Why, if you call it grog an' make believe, it goes down like--like--" "Wather," suggested Larry; "well, well, let's have a drop, whativer it is." "But how comes it to pass," inquired Will, "that we should all meet here just as people are made to do in a novel, or at the end of the last scene in a play?" "Nothing more natural," said Captain Blathers. "You know, when we were cast adrift by the scoundrels that took my ship, Captain Dall, Mr Cupples, and I, made the coast, and got to San Francisco, where we remained, working at what we could, to scrape together a little money before leaving for England, as we had no heart for the g
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