“I am sorry, don,” said Bob, with a note of deep regret in his voice, “but I have not the authority to let you have the Grampus for any such work.”
“You are the captain?”
“I am in charge of the boat while her captain is sick. You should take your proposition to Captain Nemo, junior.”
“I went to see him, but the doctor refused to let me in. The doctor said the captain was unable to talk with anybody. So I came to you.”
“I haven’t the authority, don,” repeated Bob firmly. “Wait until the captain is able to talk business. I can’t risk the boat.”
“There is no risk!”
“Perhaps not; but I have no more right to take this boat out of the harbor, don, than you have.”
The don passed his dejected glance from Bob to Dick, and then toward the three faces in the narrow doorway.
Gaines pushed forward.
“Bob,” said he, “I think you might stretch a point. Them golden sovs look mighty fine to me. There’s two hundred an’ fifty dollars’ worth there, and we’re promised five thousand dollars’ worth more. Cap’n Nemo, junior, if he was able, would tell us to go ahead an’ capture the prize money. I move we hook up with the don.”