“I e’en said what was gie’d me in that hour. Ye know how a drydock echoes. I saw young Steiner standin’ listenin’ above me, an’, man, he used language provocative of a breach o’ the peace. I was a spy and a disgraced employé, an’ a corrupter o’ young Bannister’s morals, an’ he’d prosecute me for libel. He went away when I ran up the steps—I’d ha’ thrown him into the dock if I’d caught him—an’ there I met McRimmon, wi’ Dandie pullin’ on the chain, guidin’ the auld man among the railway lines. “‘McPhee,’ said he, ‘ye’re no paid to fight Holdock, Steiner, Chase & Company, Limited, when ye meet. What’s wrong between you?’ “‘No more than a tail-shaft rotten as a kail-stump. For ony sakes go an’ look, McRimmon. It’s a comedietta.’ “‘I’m feared o’ yon conversational Hebrew,’ said he. ‘Whaur’s the flaw, an’ what like?’ “‘A seven-inch crack just behind the boss. There’s no power on earth will fend it just jarrin’ off.’ “‘When?’ “‘That’s beyon’ my knowledge,’ I said. “‘So it is; so it is,’ said McRimmon. ‘We’ve all oor leemitations. Ye’re certain it was a crack?’ “‘Man, it’s a crevasse,’ I said, for there were no words to describe the magnitude of it. ‘An’ young Bannister’s sayin’ it’s no more than a superfeecial flaw!’ “‘Weell, I tak’ it oor business is to mind oor business. If ye’ve ony friends aboard her, McPhee, why not bid them to a bit dinner at Radley’s?’ “‘I was thinkin’ o’ tea in the cuddy,’ I said. ‘Engineers o’ tramp freighters cannot afford hotel prices.’ “‘Na! na!’ says the auld man, whimperin’. ‘Not the cuddy. They’ll laugh at my _Kite_, for she’s no plastered with paint like the _Hoor_. Bid them to Radley’s, McPhee, an’ send me the bill. Thank Dandie, here, man. I’m no used to thanks.’ Then he turned him round. (I was just thinkin’ the vara same thing.) ‘Mister McPhee,’ said he, ‘this is _not_ senile dementia.’ “‘Preserve ’s!’ I said, clean jumped oot o’ mysel’. ‘I was but thinkin’ you’re fey, McRimmon.’ “Dod, the auld deevil laughed till he nigh sat down on Dandie. ‘Send me the bill,’ says he. ‘I’m long past champagne, but tell me how it tastes the morn.’ “Bell and I bid young Bannister and Calder to dinner at Radley’s. They’ll have no laughin’ an’ singin’ there, but we took a private room—like yacht-owners fra’ Cowes.” McPhee grinned all over, and lay back to think. “And then?” said I. “We were no drunk in ony preceese sense o’ the word, but Radley’s showed me the dead men. There were six magnums o’ dry champagne an’ maybe a bottle o’ whisky.” “Do you mean to tell me that you four got away with a magnum and a half a piece, besides whisky?” I demanded. McPhee looked down upon me from between his shoulders with toleration.