M'Closky. See here—there's a small freight of turpentine in the fore hold there, and one of the barrels leaks; a spark from your engines might set the ship on fire, and you'd go with it.
Ratts. You be darned! Go and try it, if you've a mind to.
Lafouche. Captain, you've loaded up here until the boat is sunk so deep in the mud she won't float.
Ratts. [Calls off.] Wood up thar, you Polio—hang on to the safety valve—guess she'll crawl off on her paddles. [Shouts heard, R.]
Jackson. What's the matter?
Enter Solon, R.
Solon. We got him!
Scud. Who?
Solon. The Injiun!
Scud. Wahnotee? Where is he? D'ye call running away from a fellow catching him?