“'Chepa nor Irish didn't do that!' said Sadler.
“'Peppery, ain't it!' said Dorcas. 'Red hot. Who did it! Don' know. Kirby, maybe. Don' know! Done for himself now. Sure.'
“'Mr. Dorcas,' I said, 'why shouldn't Kirby sail with us to-night?'
“'Maybe he won't. Likely not. Here's Jamison.'
“Jamison came up deliberately. He said there were some men tending the furnaces and dynamos who thought either Kirby or Chepa would be back before midnight. Senor Kirby had said he was going to visit a foreign vessel in the harbour. They knew no more.
“Jamison thought he would go back to the plant, and so said farewell.
“'Why, there!' I said; 'He's on the Violetta already. But undoubtedly there will arise a point of duty, of responsibility. But you are a responsible man, Mr. Dorcas. You may be playing a game of your own, but my impression is it will be, on the whole, a decent game. I'm willing to be convinced it is, however it may look not over friendly. At any rate, Kirby knows you, if I do not.'
“'Knows me!' Dorcas said. 'Knows me! You're right. Point's this: He's done for himself. Persona non grata. Poison to the Mayor. Spoiled the Mayor's face. I'll see to property. Cable Union Electric. Send another man. Tell 'em he did well. All considered. Overdid it some, maybe. Bad hole. No good here now. Cats and dogs. Fines. Thirty thousand up the spout again. Damages. Anything. Queer country. Got to play it, you know. Same as a trout. Better clear out.'
“I said, 'But in that case what are we doing here? He'll want to come here to pack up, and as we leave before daybreak, he'll have no time to spare.'
“Dorcas shook his head.