Having lost control over his men, he owed its restoration to Hozier.

Such a fact was gall and wormwood to a man of his character, and he was mean-souled enough to be vindictive.
Promising himself the future joy of pounding to a jelly the features of every mother's son among the forecastle hands, he began to snarl his orders.
"Watts, you must leg it to the sky-line, an' pipe the cruiser.

Olsen, you go, too, an' see that Mr.Watts doesn't find a brewery.

Hozier, p'raps you'd like to rig the mistletoe.

Miss Yorke 'll 'elp, I'm sure.
It's up to you, mister, an' his nibs with the sword, to parly-voo to the other convicts about the grub.