into twenty-four shares o' fifty each. Now, lads, step up an' each take
a share."

The men obeyed, their eyes glowing and their hands trembling.

"Now there bes four shares still on the table," said the skipper.

"Aye, skipper, aye," stammered Bill Brennen, huskily. The others
breathed heavily, shuffled their feet, gripped the money in their
pockets and glared at the yellow pieces still glowing in the lamplight.




CHAPTER III

FOXEY JACK QUINN SLIPS AWAY


"Four shares still on the table," repeated the skipper. "Well, lads, one
bes for Black Dennis Nolan."

He glared around at the circle of eager, watchful, shaggy faces set
against the wall of gloom that hemmed in the table and the ill-trimmed
lamp.

"Aye, skipper, that bes right," muttered Nick Leary.

"And another bes for the skipper who feeds ye all from his store."