"He belongs in this gang.

Here you, Ole, what 's become o' Nelse Swanson ?" The fellow thus directly addressed drew his hand across his mouth, straightening up slightly to answer.
"Eet iss not sumtings dot I know, Meester Burke.

He seems not here." "Not here; no, I should say not, ye cross-oied Swade.

But Oi 'm dommed if he did n't come down in the cage wid' us, for Oi counted the lot o' yez.

Don't any o' you lads know whut 's become o' the drunken lout ?" There was a universal shaking of heads, causing the lights to dance dizzily, forming weird shadows in the gloom, and the irritated foreman swore aloud, his eyes wandering back down the tunnel.
"No doubt he's dhrunk yet, an' laid down to slape back beyant in the passage," he growled savagely.