Max held out a hand, but Crouch appeared not to notice it. He turned to Edward.
"What's the matter with him?" he asked.
"He's suffering from a complaint which, I fancy, both you and I contracted in our younger days--a desire to investigate the Unknown. In a word, Crouch, he wants to come with us."
Crouch whipped round upon Max.
"You're too young for the Coast," said he. "You'll go out the moment you get there like a night-light."
"I'm ready to take my chance," said Max.
Crouch looked pleased at that, for his only eye twinkled and seemed to grow smaller.
Max was anxious to take advantage of the little ground he might have gained. "Also," he added, "I am a medical man--at least, I'm a medical student. I am making a special study of tropical diseases."
And no sooner were the words from his lips than he saw he had made a fatal mistake, for Captain Crouch brought down his fist so violently upon one of the little smokers' tables with which the room was scattered, that the three legs broke off, and the whole concern collapsed upon the floor.
"Do you think we want a medical adviser!" he roared. "Study till you're black in the face, till you're eighty years old, and you won't know a tenth of what I know. What's the use of all your science? I've lived on the Coast for thirty years, and I tell you this: there are only two things that matter where fever is concerned--pills and funk. Waiter, take that table away, and burn it."