No chap with any sense ever does."
"That's like me," said Gordon. "I'd sooner run a mile than fight,
any time. I'm like a rat if I'm cornered, but it takes a man with
a stockwhip to corner me. I never start fighting till I'm done
running. But we needn't get into a row. I vote we go. Will you
come, Carew?"
"Oh, yes; I'd like to," said the Englishman. "I don't suppose we
need get into a fight."
So, after many jeers from the Bo'sun, and promises to come back
and tell him all about it, Carew and Gordon sallied forth, a pair
of men as capable of looking after themselves as one would meet in
a day's march. Stepping into the street they called a cab.
"Where to, sir?" asked the cabman.
"Nearest dancing saloon," said Gordon, briefly.
"Nearest darncin' saloon," said the cabman. "There ain't no parties
to-night, sir; it's too 'ot."
"We're not expecting to drop into a ballroom without being asked,
thank you," said Gordon. "We want to go to one of those saloons
where you pay a shilling to go in. Some place where the larrikins
go."
"Ho! is that it, sir?" said the cabman, with a grin. "Well, I'll
take you to a noo place, most selectest place I know. Git up,
'orse." And off they rattled through the quiet streets, turning
corners and crossing tramlines every fifty yards apparently, and
bumping against each other in the most fraternal manner.
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