human
Push who looked like a squat Mike, and whose name, it transpired, was Michael, turned to Scholar and commented:
gpt
I suppose the Salvation Army does some good in its own way--among the lowest classes. And again a few paces on, when one of the men in the rear broke out:
human
Here, where are you fellows going? What's the matter with this? Michael looked over his shoulder and shook his head in dissent; and a little further still, as the man behind was still wanting to know what was the matter with the saloon in question:
gpt
We don't want to go in there, Michael said.
human
There ain't enough of us. That's a bad, low-down joint.
gpt
Scared, are you?
human
There's a bad push goes in there, said Michael,
gpt
Go on! What could they do?
human
Mike, he said,
gpt
What they would do to him, is it? asked Mike.
human
It all depinds whether he feels in his pockuts and fetches out the nate money as if it was his last nickel.
gpt
Supposing I put down fifty cents?
human
You'd have to spind the change on thim,
gpt
Oh!
human
But if ye want to see the whole thing for yoursilf, my device to you, me lad, is to plant down a dollar--if ye have it. If ye hadn't plenty of fighting friends with ye, ye might just as well hand it to them. If it's a rough house ye're wantin', we might all go in and oblige ye, but spakin' for mesilf, I'm wantin' a quiet drink.
gpt
That's right, Michael commented quietly, with a nod to Scholar, by whose side he marched.
human
Partner of mine once went in there. I think meself that some fellow slipt up and drugged his beer, for when he comes near the tail of the glass he feels kind of funny, ye know, and he came outside. He was for walking out into the main streets, and then he thinks some bull would arrest him for drunk and incapable, for he could hardly stand; so he turns the other way and two fellows came up to him and began talking to him, and asks him what's the matter, and he tumbles to it and tries to walk back the other way again. One of them fellows comes the one side of him and the other the other side, and they says: 'You come along with us, where the bulls won't get you.' And while he's puzzling out which is better, the bulls or them, ye see--well, he doesn't know any more, ye see. And the next he does know, he's wondering where he is anyhow, for the things he's after seeing. It's the backs of the wharfs all upside down, ye see. He's lying there with nothing on him but his pants. The hat on his head, his shirt and his coat, with his discharge papers in it, they've skinned off him; and his boots; and him after having a dollar stowed away in each boot.
gpt
Here you are, Scholar, then, said Mike, in advance, and swung into a saloon, a ramshackle sawdusted place, where, behind a short counter, a lean, sharp-faced man in shirt sleeves looked at them in a way reminiscent of a weasel. All entered with a swagger, each man with whatever change of face was his change of face before possible trouble. Mike jerked up his right shoulder, jerked up his left, hitched his belt, seemed to heave his chest up, and broaden his whole torso. Cockney curved his back, curved also his arms, making the swing of them, instead of by his side, left and right, in front of him, and thrust his face forward, craning his neck. Michael put one hand in his pocket, half-closed his eyes, and slowly, and without expression, his guarded gaze roved from occupant to occupant of the place. The man with the dangerously mad eyes, who it appeared was called Harry, but was referred to simply as Queer, merely sneered slightly, an unpleasant sneer, a one-sided sneer that showed a tooth. The Inquisitive One danced into the place; his name had not yet transpired, but it seemed to be