"This," he enunciated slowly, "is of the nature of piracy. Do you and your underlings realize it?"
Landon was lighting a cigarette. He sucked in a full mouthful of smoke and shot it out again before he replied. The act was artificial—far too artificial, Miller told himself—in its indifference.
"My underlings," he answered, "realize that they are well on the way to—what shall we say—a modest competency. Beyond that, their very finite understandings have not advanced. Domani or mañana are words frequent in their vocabularies, but not in relation to results. Comfortable procrastination—that is the whole sense which they appreciate in them."
"Your own outlook is sufficiently intelligent to pierce beyond to-morrow," said the other, drily.
"Certainly!" agreed Landon. "I dwell upon to-morrow, and the day after to-morrow, and the day after that! I engage in prescient revels in their rosy-tinted hours!"
Miller made a little inarticulate sound which expressed a restrained but unequivocal irritation.
"Shall we be business-like?" he proposed. "You have entrapped on board this boat three people, including myself. What advantage do you expect to get out of the situation and, bluntly, how?"
"You are such a rigid man of affairs," complained Landon. "You refuse even to eat your breakfast without distractions."
"I find myself in an extraordinary and unfamiliar situation," said Miller. "It is obvious that I wish to disentangle myself from it as soon as possible. Let me hear and accept or reject your terms. Is there any need to be mysterious?"
"None," said Landon, amiably. "But I have not been a man of successful coups, so far, my dear friend, and you must not grudge me the unaccustomed zests I draw from this one. To clear the situation, I purpose holding you all three to ransom."