He and Jim Finch were much together. Finch always gave Joel careful obedience, always handled the ship when he was in charge with smooth efficiency. His boat was the best manned and the most successful of the four. But he and Joel were not comradely. Joel instinctively disliked the big man; and Finch’s servility disgusted him. The mate was full of smooth and flattering words, but his eyes were shallow.
Mark talked with him long, one morning; and then he left Finch and came to Joel, by the after house, chuckling as though at some enormous jest. “Will ye look at Finch, there?” he begged.
Joel had been watching the two. He saw Finch now, standing just forward of the boat house with flushed cheeks and eyes fixed and hands twitching. The big man was powerfully moved by something.... “What is it that’s got him?” Joel asked.
“I’ve told him about the pearls,” Mark chuckled. “He’s wild to be after them....”
Joel turned on his brother hotly. “You’re mad, Mark,” he snapped. “That is no word to be loose in the ship.”
“I’ve but told Finch,” Mark protested. “It’s mirthful to watch the man wiggle.”
“He’ll tell the ship. His tongue wags unceasingly.”
Mark lifted his shoulders. “Tell him to be silent. You should keep order on your ship, Joel.”
Joel beckoned, and Finch came toward them. As he came, he fought for self control; and when he stood before them, his lips were twisting into something like a smile, and his eyes were shifty and gleaming. Joel said quietly:
“Mr. Finch, my brother says he has told you his story.”