



Produced by David Widger




SHIP'S COMPANY

By W.W. Jacobs



FOR BETTER OR WORSE


Mr. George Wotton, gently pushing the swing doors of the public bar of
the "King's Head" an inch apart, applied an eye to the aperture, in the
hope of discovering a moneyed friend.  His gaze fell on the only man in
the bar a greybeard of sixty whose weather-beaten face and rough clothing
spoke of the sea.  With a faint sigh he widened the opening and passed
through.

"Mornin', Ben," he said, with an attempt at cheerfulness.

"Have a drop with me," said the other, heartily.  "Got any money about
you?"

Mr. Wotton shook his head and his face fell, clearing somewhat as the
other handed him his mug.  "Drink it all up, George," he said.

His friend complied.  A more tactful man might have taken longer over the
job, but Mr. Benjamin Davis, who appeared to be labouring under some
strong excitement, took no notice.

"I've had a shock, George," he said, regarding the other steadily.  "I've
heard news of my old woman."

"Didn't know you 'ad one," said Mr. Wotton calmly.  "Wot's she done?"

"She left me," said Mr. Davis, solemnly--"she left me thirty-five years
ago.  I went off to sea one fine morning, and that was the last I ever
see of er.

"Why, did she bolt?"  inquired Mr. Wotton, with mild interest.

"No," said his friend, "but I did.  We'd been married three years--three
long years--and I had 'ad enough of it.  Awful temper she had.  The last
words I ever heard 'er