"Did you think I was worried?" asked Trask, stopping.
This was apparently a poser for Jarrow, who took his cigar out of his mouth, and was a full minute in framing a reply. Trask would have given a good deal to see his face.
"I didn't take you that way," said Jarrow.
Trask went back beside him. The young man felt that it was a mistake to allow Jarrow to dismiss him as he had, with the curt suggestion that he go back to bed.
"Then I want to assure you," said Trask, speaking slowly and in a tone intended to carry conviction of just how he felt, "that I'm not the worrying kind, Captain Jarrow. And if Mr. Peth gets to acting up, I'm prepared to deal with him myself."
"Oh, hush!" said Jarrow, in a low whisper. "We can't have any talk like that for'ard here."
"I don't care who hears me," went on Trask, determined to carry out his bluff. "I've been out on deck for quite a while, and to be frank, I didn't like the idea of a boat going off this way. If it's your plan to kedge, and you think it is necessary, all right. I'm not a sailor. But I do know you haven't got Mr. Peth or the crew very well in hand, so if——"
"Hush up, Mr. Trask, for God's sake!" implored Jarrow, stepping over to Trask and putting his hand on his arm. "There is trouble brewing, but I don't know what it's about. I'm holdin' things off till the mornin'. I don't look for nothin' to come of it."
"Trouble? What sort of trouble?" demanded Trask, amazed at the captain's revelation.
"I don't know," admitted Jarrow. "May be everythin' and nothin'. It's that Peth's too thick with the crew, and it's bad when a mate gits to standin' out with the fo'c's'le agin the master."