The skipper turned upon him, looked at him fiercely, and then almost barked out—
“You don’t know, youngster?”
“No. What do you mean?”
“Means that I’ve got as smart a picked crew as a man need wish to have.”
“To be sure,” said Rodd; “of course you have. I do know that.”
“Well,” said the skipper gruffly, “I don’t want to lose them; that’s all.”
Rodd and his uncle exchanged glances, while the skipper went and stood at the side and began scanning the sky, to come back shaking his head.
“No more wind, and not likely to be.”
“Well, we don’t want any more, do we?” said Uncle Pad.
“Ay; if a good breeze would spring up I’d show them a clean pair of heels.”