"What do I care?" retorted Sam. "My uncle is the mate."
"That won't make any difference if Captain Marshall sees you."
"I'm not afraid of him. My uncle owns part of the ship. He could be captain if he wanted to. I'll smoke wherever I please. Have one yourself?" he added in a burst of generosity, for since he had had his idea of becoming purser and having Nat for an assistant, Sam felt in a little more tolerant mood toward our hero.
"No, thanks, I don't smoke."
"Afraid of being sick, I s'pose."
"No, it isn't that."
"Afraid the captain will see you and punish you, then?"
"Well, that's part of it. I used to smoke when I was about the docks, but I found it didn't agree with me, so I gave it up. I like a cigarette, but I believe they're bad for one's health. Besides, if I did smoke, I wouldn't do it here. It's against the rules, I tell you, and you'd better stop."
"Well, I'm not going to, and you can go and tell Captain Marshall if you want to."
"I don't do things like that," replied Nat quietly, though he felt like punching Sam for his sneering tone. "But I'm advising you for your own good."