"Help yourself to a belayin' pin, Bart, an'
knock 'em on the heads if they try to come aboard," Mr. Gibney
ordered nonchalantly.
"Do I understand there is a steamer at hand, Mr. Gibney?" the
master of the _Chesapeake_ queried.
"There's an excuse for one, sir. The little vegetable freighter
_Maggie_. She'll never be able to tow you in, because she ain't
got power enough, an' if she had power enough she ain't got coal
enough. Besides, Scraggs, her owner, is a rotten bad article an'
before he'll put a rope aboard you he'll tie you up on a contract
for a figger that'd make an angel weep. The way your ship lies
an' everything, me an' McGuffey can sail her in for you at half
the price."
"I can't risk my ship in the hands of two men," the sick captain
answered. "She's too valuable and so is her cargo. If this little
steamer will tow me in I'll gladly give her my towline and let
the court settle the bill."
"Not by a million," Mr. Gibney protested. "Beg pardon, sir, but
you don't know this here Scraggs like I do. I couldn't think of
lettin' him set foot on this deck."
"_You_ couldn't think of it? Well, when did _you_ take
command of _my_ ship?"
"You're flotsam an' jetsam, sir, an' practically in the breakers.
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