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I
had
brought
the
customary
liquor
glasses
,
but
Wolf
Larsen
frowned
,
shook
his
head
,
and
signalled
with
his
hands
for
me
to
bring
the
tumblers
.
These
he
filled
two-thirds
full
with
undiluted
whisky
--
"
a
gentleman
's
drink
?
"
quoth
Thomas
Mugridge
--
and
they
clinked
their
glasses
to
the
glorious
game
of
"
Nap
,
"
lighted
cigars
,
and
fell
to
shuffling
and
dealing
the
cards
.
They
played
for
money
.
They
increased
the
amounts
of
the
bets
.
They
drank
whisky
,
they
drank
it
neat
,
and
I
fetched
more
.
I
do
not
know
whether
Wolf
Larsen
cheated
or
not
--
a
thing
he
was
thoroughly
capable
of
doing
--
but
he
won
steadily
.
The
cook
made
repeated
journeys
to
his
bunk
for
money
.
Each
time
he
performed
the
journey
with
greater
swagger
,
but
he
never
brought
more
than
a
few
dollars
at
a
time
.
He
grew
maudlin
,
familiar
,
could
hardly
see
the
cards
or
sit
upright
.
As
a
preliminary
to
another
journey
to
his
bunk
,
he
hooked
Wolf
Larsen
's
buttonhole
with
a
greasy
forefinger
and
vacuously
proclaimed
and
reiterated
,
"
I
got
money
,
I
got
money
,
I
tell
yer
,
an
'
I
'm
a
gentleman
's
son
.
"
Wolf
Larsen
was
unaffected
by
the
drink
,
yet
he
drank
glass
for
glass
,
and
if
anything
his
glasses
were
fuller
.
There
was
no
change
in
him
.
He
did
not
appear
even
amused
at
the
other
's
antics
.
In
the
end
,
with
loud
protestations
that
he
could
lose
like
a
gentleman
,
the
cook
's
last
money
was
staked
on
the
game
--
and
lost
.
Whereupon
he
leaned
his
head
on
his
hands
and
wept
.
Wolf
Larsen
looked
curiously
at
him
,
as
though
about
to
probe
and
vivisect
him
,
then
changed
his
mind
,
as
from
the
foregone
conclusion
that
there
was
nothing
there
to
probe
.
"
Hump
,
"
he
said
to
me
,
elaborately
polite
,
"
kindly
take
Mr.
Mugridge
's
arm
and
help
him
up
on
deck
.
He
is
not
feeling
very
well
.
"
"
And
tell
Johnson
to
douse
him
with
a
few
buckets
of
salt
water
,
"
he
added
,
in
a
lower
tone
for
my
ear
alone
.
I
left
Mr.
Mugridge
on
deck
,
in
the
hands
of
a
couple
of
grinning
sailors
who
had
been
told
off
for
the
purpose
.
Mr.
Mugridge
was
sleepily
spluttering
that
he
was
a
gentleman
's
son
.
But
as
I
descended
the
companion
stairs
to
clear
the
table
I
heard
him
shriek
as
the
first
bucket
of
water
struck
him
.
Wolf
Larsen
was
counting
his
winnings
.
"
One
hundred
and
eighty-five
dollars
even
,
"
he
said
aloud
.
"
Just
as
I
thought
.
The
beggar
came
aboard
without
a
cent
.
"
"
And
what
you
have
won
is
mine
,
sir
,
"
I
said
boldly
.
