Again Mayo tried to speak.

"Why don't you shut up that gobbling and talk sense?" shouted the irate

skipper, with maddening disregard of the captive's predicament.

"Father, are you completely crazy? You haven't taken that spike out of

his mouth."

"Expect a man to remember everything when he is all wrapped in his own

business and everybody trying to meddle with it?" grumbled Candage. He

fumbled in his pocket and produced a knife. He slashed away the rope

yarn which lashed the marlinespike. "If you can talk sense I'll help

you do it! I reckon you can holler all you want to now. Them dudes can't

find their own mouths in a fog, much less this schooner. Now talk up!"

Mayo worked his aching jaws and found his voice. "You know how I

happened to get aboard, Captain Candage. I am skipper of the Olenia.

Put back with me if you want to save trouble."

"Not by a tin hoopus, sir! I ain't going about and tackle them reefs in

this fog. I've got open sea ahead, and I shall keep going!"

Mayo was a sailor who knew that coast, and he admitted to himself that

Candage's stubbornness was justified.

"I ain't responsible for your getting aboard here. I'll land you as soon

as I can--and that covers the law, sir."

During a prolonged silence the two men stared at each other.

"At any rate, Captain Candage, I trust you will not consider that you

have a right to keep me tied up here any longer."

"Now that there's a better understanding about who is boss aboard here,

I don't know as I'm afraid to have you at large," admitted the skipper.

"I only warn you to remember your manners and don't forget that I'm

captain."

He flourished his clasp-knife and bent and cut the lashings. Then he

strode across the cabin and performed like service for his daughter.

"I reckon I can afford to have you loose, too, now that you can't tell

me my business in front of a lot of skylarkers throwing kisses right and

left!"

"Father! Oh, oh!" She put her hands to her face.

Captain Candage seemed to be having some trouble in keeping up his

rôle of a bucko shipmaster; he shifted his eyes from Mayo's scowl and

surveyed his daughter with uncertainty while he scratched his ear.

"When a man ain't boss on his own schooner he might as well stop going

to sea," he muttered. "Some folks knows it's the truth, being in a

position to know, and others has to be showed!" He went stamping up the

companionway into the night.




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