There were a dozen saloons all around.

And when we had followed the sailing master into the one of his choice, the sharks were thick on the sidewalk outside.

Some of them even ventured inside, but we would have nothing to do with them.
There we stood at the long bar--the sailing master, the mate, the six hunters, the six boat-steerers, and the five boat-pullers.

There were only five of the last, for one of our number had been dropped overboard, with a sack of coal at his feet, between two snow squalls in a driving gale off Cape Jerimo.

There were nineteen of us, and it was to be our last drink together.