human
Where's Four Eyes?
gpt
Oh, to hell!
human
Let them wrangle, his expression seemed to say. Charles, to give the Inquisitive One his name, was agitated; he had set this discussion agoing, and Mike's silence he began to feel as ominous. Mike was well aware that he had started the
gpt
about being three men short, and in an attempt to allay his forebodings, Charles now drew forth his mouth organ, and began to play. Some of the younger fry danced. One or two, who were mouth-organ experts, cocked their ears. They thought they could play every whit as well as the Inquisitive One. His rapid-fire eyes perceived this, and when he finished one tune, and these young men made a grab for the instrument, he leapt back snarling. There were shrieks of
human
Damn your eyes! and
gpt
Half a mo'! and
human
Give me a chance! and
gpt
To hell with you!
human
Give us a lend of it then!
gpt
Half a mo'! shrieked Charles, and broke into another tune, holding the mouth organ between the flattened palms of his hands, and putting a tremolo into the music by the adroit movement of them. The other would-be players drew back, sat down on their bunks. One of them, when the dancers added shouts to their dancing, growled:
human
A little less yelling like that. Let us hear the music.
gpt
Who are you talking to? said another, who had interspersed his dance with many whoops. It was a mistake, for the man who had ordered silence was that devilish, depravedly handsome, dandiacal person called Jack. He rubbed his nose with the back of his hand and rose. There was an expression at his mouth as of boredom. The youth who had
human
him dived out of the cabin. Jack strolled after him. One or two gave ear, listening for what sounds from outside might come through the music within. They made up their minds that nothing had happened, when suddenly there came throttling cries, and they listened anew, listened briefly, and then said:
gpt
Oh, to hell!