But the latter waved him away. “Save your embraces for your wives,” he observed.
“I love all the world,” said Dan.
“Me, too!” from Clarence.
“I presume I am free to take my departure, gentlemen?” said Bob, rising.
“You are free as the birds of the air for all of me,” answered the monocle-man.
“Hold on one moment,” begged the commodore. “No; I’m not going to detain you forcibly. As a friend I ask you to wait.” Bob paused. “I’m a good fellow,” said Dan effusively, “and I don’t wish the world harm. I don’t want you to go wandering around any more as you are. Why, you’re a regular Frankenstein. You’re an iron automaton that goes about trampling on people. After all I’ve gone through, I have charity toward others. I won’t have you treading on people’s finer sensibilities and smashing connubial peace and comfort all to splinters.”
“But what can I do?” suggested Bob. He meant the three weeks weren’t yet up.
“Here’s what I propose to Clarence and Dickie. I see now you’ll win, anyhow. You’ve got the grit and the nerve. So as long as we have simply got to pay in the end, why not do so at once and so spare others? That’ll be the way I’ll pay him.” Alluding to the monocle-man. “It’s my way of showing my gratitude for what he’s done. And now I think of it, I can’t see that I ought to blame you so much, Bob, for all that has transpired.”
“Oh, you don’t?” With faint irony.
“No; you only did what you had to, and maybe we were a little rough. Forget it.” The commodore extended his hand.