Joel saw his brother smile, and stood for an instant, poised to meet an attack. None came. He swept his eyes forward and saw that he need fear no immediate interference from that direction; and so he went quietly toward the men astern. The broad back of Jim Finch was within six feet of him....
What moved Mark Shore in that moment, it is hard to say. It may have been the reckless spirit of the man, willing to wait and watch and see what Joel would do; or it may have been the distaste he must have felt for Jim Finch’s slavish adulation; or it may have been an unadmitted admiration for Joel’s courage....
At any rate, while Joel advanced, Mark stood still and smiled; and he gave Finch no warning, so that when Joel touched the mate’s elbow, Finch whirled with a startled gasp of surprise and consternation, and in his first panic, tried to back away. Still Mark made no move. The man at the wheel uttered one exclamation, looked quickly at Mark for commands, and took his cue from his leader. Finch was left alone and unsupported to face Joel.
Joel did not pursue the retreating mate. He stepped to the rail, where the whaleboats hung, and called to Finch quietly:
“Mr. Finch, step here.”
Finch had retreated until his shoulders were braced against the wall of the after house. He leaned there, hands outspread against the wall behind him, staring at Joel with goggling eyes. And Joel said again:
“Come here, Mr. Finch.”
Joel’s composure, and the determination and the confidence in his tone, frightened Finch. He clamored suddenly: “How did he get here, Captain Shore? Jump him. Tie him up—you—Aaron....”
He appealed to the man at the wheel, and to old Aaron, who had appeared in the doorway of the tiny compartment where his tools were stored. Neither stirred. Mark Shore, chuckling, stared at Finch and at Joel; and Finch cried:
“Captain Shore. Come on. Let’s get him....”