The After House - Page 37/108

"Well?"--sullenly.

"I'm going around after you, and if I find so much as a pint, I'll

put you in that room you have just left, and lock you in."

He turned even grayer, and went into the storeroom.

A day later, and the crew would probably have resented what they

saw that morning. But that day they only looked up apathetically

from their gruesome work of sewing into bags of canvas the sheeted

bodies on the deck, while a gray-faced Negro in a white coat flung

over the rail cases of fine wines, baskets and boxes full of

bottles, dozen after dozen of brandies and liquors, all sinking

beyond salvage in the blue Atlantic.