"D'ye think I look afraid?"
"Love ye, cap'en, why, I didn't mean that! There ain't many what 'ud try to frighten you. That ain't my tack. You're too hard a nut for that, anybody knows." Dan Ogle fidgeted uneasily with a hand about his neck-cloth; while the other arm hung straight by his side. "But look here, now, cap'en," he went on; "you're a straight man, an' you don't round on a chap as trusts you. That's right ain't it?"
"Well?" Truly Captain Nat's piercing stare, his unwavering frown, were disconcerting. Dan Ogle had come confidently prepared to claim a share of the plunder, just as he would have done from any rascal in Blue Gate. But, in presence of the man he knew for his master, he had had to begin with no more assurance than he could force on himself; and now, though he had met not a word of refusal, he was reduced well-nigh to pleading. But he saw the best opening, as by a flash of inspiration; and beyond that he had another resource, if he could but find courage to use it.
"Well?" said Captain Nat.
"You're the sort as plays the square game with a man as trusts you, cap'en. Very well. I've trusted you. I come an' put myself in your way, an' told you free what I done, an' I ask, as man to man, for my fair whack o' the stuff. Bein' the straight man you are, you'll do the fair thing."
Captain Nat brought his foot down from the chair, and the knee from under his hand; and he clenched the hand on the table. But neither movement disturbed his steady gaze. So he stood for three seconds. Then, with an instant dart, he had Dan Ogle by the hanging arm, just above the wrist.
Dan sprang and struggled, but his wrist might have been chained to a post. Twice he made offer to strike at Captain Nat's face with the free hand, but twice the blow fainted ere it had well begun. Tall and powerful as he was, he knew himself no match for the old skipper. Pallid and staring, he whispered hoarsely: "No, cap'en—no! Drop it! Don't put me away! Don't crab the deal! D' y' 'ear——"
Captain Nat, grim and silent, slowly drew the imprisoned fore-arm forward, and plucked a bare knife from within the sleeve. There was blood on it, for his grip had squeezed arm and blade together.
"Umph!" growled Captain Nat; "I saw that in time, my lad"; and he stuck the knife in the shelf behind him.
"S'elp me, cap'en, I wasn't meanin' anythink—s'elp me I wasn't," the ruffian pleaded, cowering but vehement, with his neckerchief to his cut arm. "That's on'y where I carry it, s'elp me—on'y where I keep it!"