"Why not?" Brander insisted.
Noll's lips twitched with the play of his nerves, and he poured a drink and lifted it to his mouth with unsteady fingers. He set down the glass, spilling a little of the liquor; and he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I had 'casion to discipline Mauger," he said, with awkward dignity, his head wagging. "I had 'casion to discipline Mauger. An' now he's got a knife for me. He's goin' kill me. I ought kill him; put the man shore, 'stead of that."
Brander smiled reassuringly. "Mauger's harmless, sir. And he does his work."
Noll shook his head. "I know 'im. He's a murd'rer. I'm goin' put him ashore."
The fourth mate hesitated; then he said quietly: "All right. If he goes, I go too."
Noll's head jerked back as though he had been struck; and his red eyes widened and narrowed again as he peered at Brander, and he hesitated unsteadily. "Wha's that?" he asked. "Wha's that you say?"
"I say I'll go if he goes."
Noll's head drooped and swayed wearily; but after a moment he asked: "Wha' for?"
"The man shipped for the cruise," said Brander. "He does his work. I'll not be a party to putting him ashore—dumping him in this God-forsaken hole."
Noll raised a hand. "Don' speak of God," he said reprovingly. "You don' understand Him, Mr. Brander." Brander said nothing; and Noll's hand dropped and he whined: "Man can't do what he wants on his own ship...."