"I understand Mr. Woywod will settle with you for that."
"Well, he does, but what I gits from him is the price of a foremast hand, an' 'tain't enough."
The crimp bent over Beekman, flashed the light on him, and pulled out the roll of bills, which he quickly counted.
"It's fair, but I'd ought to git more. This here's a swell job; look at them clo'es."
"They're yours also, if you wish."
"That's somethin', but--"
"It's all you'll get," said Harnash, laying his hand on the door.
The man lifted the torch. Harnash lifted the pistol.
"Just put that torch back in your pocket," he said.
"You're a cool one," laughed the man, but he obeyed the order.