“I killed a man, they said, so they said;
     I killed a man, they said, so they said. 
     I killed a man they said,
     For I hit ’im on the head,
     And I left him there for dead—­
       Damn your eyes!”

“Hey!  Shorty Kilrain!” bellowed the aggravated host.

He turned to Bard.

“What’d you do with a bum like that for a cook?”

“Pay him wages and keep him around to sing songs.  I like this one. 
Listen!”

    “They put me in the quad—­in the quad;
     They put me in the quad—­in the quad. 
     They put me in the quad,
     They chained me to a rod,
     And they left me there, by God—­
       Damn your eyes!”

“Kilrain, come here and make it fast or I’ll damn your eyes!”

He explained to Bard:  “Got to be hard with these fellers or you never get nowhere with ’em.”

“Yo ho!” answered the voice of the singer, and approached booming: 

    “The parson he did come, he did come;
     The parson he did come—­did come. 
     The parson he did come,
     He looked almighty glum,
     He talked of kingdom come—. 
       Damn your eyes!”

Shorty loomed in the doorway and caught his hand to his forehead in a nautical salute.  He had one bad eye, and now it squinted as villainously as if he were the real Sam’l Hall.

“Righto sir.  What’ll you have, mate?”

“Don’t mate me, you igner’nt sweepin’ of the South Sea, but trot up some red-eye—­and gallop.”

The ex-sailor shifted his quid so that it stuck far out in the opposite cheek with such violence of pressure that a little spot of white appeared through the tan of the skin.  He regarded Lawlor for a silent moment with bodeful eyes.

“What the hell are you lookin’ at?” roared the other.  “On your way!”

The features of Kilrain twitched spasmodically.

“Righto, sir.”

Another salute, and he was off, his voice coming back less and less distinctly.

    “So up the rope I’ll go, I will go;
     So up the rope I’ll go—­I’ll go. 
     So up the rope I’ll go
     With the crowd all down below
     Yelling, ‘Sam, I told you so!’
       Damn their eyes!”

CHAPTER XXV

HAIR LIKE THE SUNSHINE

“Well,” grumbled Lawlor, settling back comfortably into his chair, “one of these days I’m goin’ to clean out my whole gang and put in a new one.  They maybe won’t be any better but they can’t be any wuss.”

Nevertheless, he did not seem in the least downhearted, but apparently had some difficulty in restraining his broad grin.

The voice of the grim cook returned: 

    “I’ll see Nelly in the crowd, in the crowd;
     I’ll see Nelly in the crowd, in the crowd;
     I’ll see Nelly in the crowd,
     And I’ll holler to her loud: 
    ’Hey, Nelly, ain’t you proud—­
       Damn your eyes?’”