The Captain shook his head. It was true: the passengers of the Oklahoma were crowded like cattle on a Kansas stock-car. He knew he ought to unload and let a good portion wait at Minóok for that unknown quantity the next boat. He would issue the order, but that he knew it would mean a mutiny.
"I'll get into trouble for overloading as it is."
"You probably won't; people are too busy up here. If you do, I'm offerin' you a good many thousand dollars for the risk."
"God bless my soul! where'd I put you? There ain't a bunk."
"I've slept by the week on the ice."
"There ain't room to lie down."
"Then we'll stand up."
Lord, Lord! what could you do with such a man? Owner of Idaho Bar, too. "Mechanics of erosion," "Concentrates," "a third interest"—it all rang in his head. "I've got nine fellers sleepin' in here," he said helplessly, "in my room."
"Can we come if we find our own place, and don't trouble you?"
"Well, I won't have any pardner—but perhaps you——"