"Well, how about your being in love with his daughter?" The caustic

humor in the old skipper's tones robbed the question of some of its

brutal bluntness, and Mayo was accustomed to Captain Wass's brand

of humor. The young man did not turn his head for a few moments; he

continued to look into the fog as if intent on his duty; he was trying

to get command of himself, fully aware that resentment would not work in

the case of Zoradus Wass. When Mayo did face the skipper, the latter

was discomposed in his turn, for Mayo showed his even teeth in a cordial

smile.

"Do you think I have been trying the chauffeur trick in order to catch

an heiress, sir?"

"Well, there's quite a gab-wireless operating along-coast and sailors

don't always keep their yawp closed after they have taken a man's money

to keep still," stated Captain Wass, pointedly. "I wouldn't blame you

for grabbing in. You're good-looking enough to do what others have done

in like cases."

"Thank you, sir. What's the rest of the joke?"

"I never joke," retorted the skipper, turning and pulling the

whistle-cord. Nequasset's squall rose and died down in her brazen

throat. "Her name is Alma?" he prodded. "Something of a clipper. If

Marston ever makes you general manager, put me into a better job than

this, will you?"

"I will, sir!"

The skipper gave his mate a disgusted stare. "You're a devil of a man

to keep up a conversation with!" He spat against the wall of the fog and

again let loose the freighter's hoarse lament.

From somewhere, ahead, a horn wailed, dividing its call into two blasts.

"Port tack and headed acrost us," snarled the master, after a sniff at

the air and a squint at the sluggish ripple.

"Why ain't the infernal fool anchored, instead of drifting around

underfoot? How does he bear, Mr. Mayo?" He was now back to pilot-house

formality with his mate.

"Two points and a half, starboard bow, sir. And there's another chap

giving one horn in about the same direction."

"Another drifter--not wind enough for 'em to know what tack they're

really on. Well, there's always Article Twenty-seven to fall back on,"

grumbled the skipper. He quoted sarcastically in the tone in which that

rule is mouthed so often in pilot-houses along coast: '"Due regard shall

be had to all dangers of navigation and collision, and to any special

circumstances which may render a departure from the above rules

necessary, and so forth and et cetry. Meaning, thank the Lord, that a

steamer can always run away from a gad-slammed schooner, even at half

speed. Hope if it ever comes to a showdown the secretary of the bureau

of commerce will agree with me. Ease her off to starboard, Mr. Mayo,

till we bring 'em abeam."




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