“By the imps of the sea!” he roared, striding forward and grasping Paul’s arm with a steel-like grip that made the youth wince as he vainly struggled to free himself. “Keep away from that wheelhouse or I’ll heave you overboard. By the imps of the sea I will! Heave you overboard! Heave you overboard!”
“I guess I can go where I want to,” answered Paul impudently, but none the less frightened.
Without releasing his grasp, or deigning to reply, the Captain half led, half dragged, Paul to Remington.
“This youngster must keep aft of the wheelhouse, sir! He was talking to the steersman, sir! Talking to him! I’ll not permit it, sir!”
“I’m sorry,” apologized Remington. “I’m sure he didn’t understand that he was doing wrong, and he won’t do it again.”
Captain Bluntt, mollified but still ruffled, returned to his duties, and Paul, almost in tears, lounged alone, amidships, sulking.
Dan had witnessed the disciplining of Paul, and in the hope of smoothing matters presently wandered over to the lad, who was still sulking and nursing his injured dignity.
“Th’ skipper’s wonderful gruff sometimes,” ventured Dan, “but he don’t mean nothin’. ’Tis sort o’ his way.”
“Mr. Remington hired this old tub, and I’m his guest, and I guess I can go where I want to on it.”
“’Tis an able craft, an’ no old tub,” resented Dan. “Th’ skipper is master at sea. ’Tis a rule of the sea.”