"Can't you hear millions spoke of without actin' like a blasted whistlin' buoy?" demanded Jarrow, savagely.
"I was took aback," said Peth.
"Took aback! This ain't no business for a man who's got to blow off steam in public the minute he sniffs somethin' good! Things like that might bust up the whole business—and sixty a day in it!"
"I don't see what I done, skipper," whined Peth.
"You done enough. Couldn't you see what I was drivin' at? You ain't got half an eye. That dude clerk, he can fix us solid with them people. What if he got an idea we was out to make money off 'em? This Locke'll go askin' that feller, so I had to prime him. Lucky he didn't notice your fidgets when he spoke of millions."
"You go make a mountain out of it," said Peth, as they turned into the Malecon and proceeded toward the river.
"Peth, you better not cross the bows of these people till we're ready for sea."
Peth turned his sharp face toward the captain and looked down on him with searching eyes, a trifle startled. He turned away and spat viciously. "I won't bite 'em," he growled.
"They might bite you. We can't reckon on what these swells'll cotton to in a deal like this."
"Aint I big enough dude?"