"Here too," nodded Bob, disdaining his father's laughter. "I guess I'll stick to the twenty-twos and porpoises. Too much blood in sharks."
So that, after this, there was no more shooting at sharks. And for that matter, something occurred the very next day that served to take the boys' minds off sharks for some time to come.
Up until now there had been no trouble whatever aboard the Seamew. The crew were paid good wages, and their food was far superior to that of the ordinary forecastle galley. The engine-room crew was composed of two Scotch engineers and a gang of Kanakas, and the brown-skinned sailors were all willing and cheerful workers.
The second mate, however, did not get on well with the men who had been shipped by old Jerry Smith. Peters was an excellent seaman, and was far easier on the men than was the first mate, Swanson. Yet Swanson was obeyed with great alacrity, probably because he did not hesitate to bully the men, while Peters had some difficulty in making the men adopt what he considered their proper attitude. With Captain Hollinger there was of course no trouble whatever.
The day after they had shot the shark, the boys were waiting for mess-call, and were looking over some magazines in the library saloon. Suddenly they heard voices in altercation on the deck, and the tramp of feet, while the angry tones of Peters rose deep and vehement.
"Something wrong!" exclaimed Mart, springing to the companionway.
"Hold on," cried Bob hastily, joining him. "Don't get mixed up in any row, Mart."
"No danger," chuckled the other. "Hello! By golly, Liverpool's mad for fair!"
And so he was. Looking out the door of the companionway on to the starboard deck-alley of the yacht, they saw that the awnings were up and the decks were being holystoned. Outside the door stood a bucket of water, a big holystone beside it, while the one-eyed seaman Birch was just rising to his feet from the deck. Peters was standing over him, his face dark.
"Don't go to sleep, there," commanded the mate sharply. "If I catch you again with a pipe alight aft of the fo'c'sle, you'll get worse than that. Move lively!"