“Looks like you’ve got some start-up meat for yer lunch counter.”

He wiped his mouth and gagged again at the thought of drinking water that had been steeped in the horrific unnatural tea of dead men.

“Jesus, Hobbsie, Mike and Paddy were right.”

“How’s that?” He smiled uneasily at Francis. Hobbs, himself, was only just keeping his retching under control. Francis very nearly inspired him; nearly triggered his gag reflex.

“They said the water was bad and that’s why they only drank beer.” He belched again. “I’ll be go to hell.”

Lung Hay called up, “That’s got a ring on it.” Hobbsie looked into the bucket and sure enough, a gold ring could be seen on a swollen, nearly denuded hand. Francis looked on in curiosity.

Hobbs nodded. “He gets anything of value we pull out; part of the deal.” He nodded at Mr. Lung Hay’s treasure trove; a pile of jewelry, coins, a ruined watch, and three, rusted as all hell, six shooters.

“I see.” Francis smiled.

Lung Hay called up again. “We want cats?”

“Yes, anything that’s not water, Lung Hay.”

“Okay, rats, too, then.” He filled the bucket and gave the line a tug.

Francis was feeling better now. He looked down and spoke to the top of the young man’s head. “Hey, Mr. Lung Hay.”

“What?”

“Looks like you’ve got some start-up meat for yer lunch counter.”

The Chinese man laughed. Hobbs turned suddenly and pushed past Francis.  “That’s it.” He ran away heaving as he went. Allingham