“That’s a damned lie,” said Jake, “and if there’s law to be had in ’Frisco, I’ll have you for it, b’gob.” “Told me she’d open out first beam sea—now then, you dog-eyed squateroo, get your dunnage and clear, pronto.” George had never seen Hank heated until this. His eyes blazed and his lean face filled with venom as he looked down on the man who had tried to crab the Wear Jack. Jake tried to meet his gaze, failed, collected his dunnage, drew in his fishing line and scrambled ashore. “If there’s law to be had in ’Frisco, I’ll have you for this,” cried he. Hank dropped the bundle of overalls on to the deck and they followed it. 46 46 “Swab,” said Hank. Then they put on the overalls. Hank started his cleaning up with an axe. There was an axe lying in the starboard scuppers, and, seizing it, he made for the old dinghy. “Go hunt for a mop,” he cried to the other. “I saw one down below. Can’t dump this old bath tub into the harbour as she is or there’ll be trouble. B’sides I want exercise.” He began to set the rotten planks flying with the axe, whilst George fetched the mop, also a bucket, which, under the direction of the perspiring Hank, he fastened to a rope so that they could dip up water for deck swilling. The remains of the dinghy overboard, they turned to on the raffle; rope ends, dead and done blocks, old newspapers, bits of coal. “Why, look you here,” said Hank, holding up one of the blocks, “look at the size of it. It must have belonged to a three-master as old as the ark. That guy’s been hunting the wharves for old raffle to dump aboard her and make a litter; stick it in the sail room for evidence if he starts any law bother. Now, gimme that bucket.” The swilling and swabbing of the deck began and continued till the dowels showed up in the planking. Then they rested and smoked cigarettes. It was now noon, and George, as he sat on
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