"Captain Dinshaw!" said Locke, as the old man started to descend the stairs to the cabin.
"Dad!" warned Marjorie. "Don't hurt his feelings."
"Yes, sir," said Dinshaw.
"Don't you want to go to your island?" asked Locke, gently.
"Yes, sir."
"Then we can't have this sort of thing, or I'll turn back to Manila. Captain Jarrow is in command."
"I know now, sir," said Dinshaw, rubbing his forehead with his hand, as if to brush away something which affected his vision. "It's all clear in my head, sir—I git kind o' dreamy, sir."
"All right," said Locke. "You'd better go down and keep out of the sun. It's all right this time, but you know we must not have a division of authority. Captain Jarrow is master."
"Very good, sir." And Dinshaw, somewhat crestfallen, went below.
"I merely wanted to take a hand in things," said Locke. "Better for me to chip the old man and keep him quiet than for Jarrow to give him fits."