"Why aren't dose poor miserable vimmen in the cabins?" he asked.
"The cabins are all locked, sir," replied one of the men, "and the Dago cook won't let us in the galley to get something to eat."
"Break open the cabin doors, and pitch the Eyetalian swab out on his dirty head, and cook whatefer you find in this schow," was the order, and these things were done on the instant. Coffee and hash were made by the Wasdale's cooks, and passed by the Wasdale's stewards, and the invaded cabins ransacked for whatever blankets and clothing might serve to warm the pitiable castaways.
A little later the crew of the Wasdale was mustered for roll call. Each department rallied to its chief. As down the lines of shivering men the "Here, sir," ran without a gap, the captain found himself choking back the tears, for at the same time the purser made tally of the cabin and steerage passengers, and found all present, even to the silent figure under a tarpaulin of the man who had slain himself.
