ng his companion
doubtfully.

"Ay, as sure as I am that my name's Jack Molloy."

"But you've been shamming drunk all this time. How am I to know that
you are not shamming friendship now?"

"No, young man," returned the seaman with blinking solemnity. "I'm not
shammin' drunk. I on'y wish I was, for I'm three sheets in the wind at
this minute, an' I've a splittin' headache due i' the mornin'. The way
as you've got to find out whether I'm fair an' above-board is to look me
straight in the face an' don't wink. If that don't settle the question,
p'r'aps it'll convince you w'en I tells you that I don't care a rap
whether you go back to that there grog-shop or not. Only I'll clear my
conscience--leastways, wot's left of it--by tellin' ye that if you do--
you--you'll wish as how you hadn't--supposin' they leave you the power
to wish anything at all."

"Well, I believe you are a true man, Mister Molloy--"

"Don't Mister me, mate," interrupted the seaman.

"My name's Jack Molloy, at your service, an' that name don't require no
handle--either Mister or Esquire--to prop it up."

The way in which the sailor squared his broad shoulders when he said
this rendered it necessary to prop himself up. Seeing which, Miles
afforded the needful aid by taking his arm in a friendly way.

"But come, let us go back," he said. "I must pay for my beer, you
know."

"Your beer is paid for, young man," said Molloy, stopping and refusing
to move. "_I_ paid for it, so you've on'y got to settle with _me_.
Besides, if you go back you're done for. And you've no call to go back
to say farewell to your dear friend Sloper, for he'll on'y grieve over
the loss of your tin. As to the unpurliteness o' the partin'--he won't
break his heart over that. No--you'll come wi' me down to the _Sailors'
Welcome_ near the dock-gates, where you can get a good bed for sixpence
a night, a heavy blow-out for tenpence, with a splendid readin'-room,
full o' rockin' chairs, an' all the rest of it for nothin'. An there's
a lavatory--that's the name that they give to a place for cleanin' of
yourself up--a lavatory--where you can wash yourself, if you like, till
your skin comes off! W'en I first putt up at the _Welcome_, the
messmate as took me there said to me, says he, `Jack,' says he, `you was
always fond o' water.' `Right you are,' says I. `Well,' says he,
`there's a place in the _Sailors' Welcome_ where you can wash yourself
all day, if you like, for no