"Oh, now I understand!" Dumont chuckled softly. "You have the head, my friend! Good. I must scuttle this fellow, eh? Well, it is for all our sakes now. And by the way, I have taken a compartment, so that I could keep my eye on the suitcase better. The Skipper said to be careful. I had to buy another ticket."
Ericksen merely waved his hand carelessly. "You scuttle that swab, Frenchy, and money won't cut no figure. So you'll carry the suitcase, eh? Better send it down to the train ahead of you. 'Don't get your lines tangled,' says the Skipper. You mind that! I'll sleep with you in the compartment, eh? All right."
"All right," assented the other. "I'll send the suitcase down to the train. Now see, my friend! Is it not humorous—what you call the paradox? In order to make our little venture legal, we must first keel a man! Is it not droll!"
Boatswain Joe thrust forward his head, and so terribly threatening were his arrogant light-blue eyes that Dumont flinched a trifle.
"Never you mind your laughin'—it ain't time yet, Frenchy! You mind your course, d'ye see? Fall off a couple o' points and things'll be in a mess, see? You mind your course! You and me have big lays in this thing. If it goes through all shipshape, we'll have money. Now, you let her head fall off and there'll be trouble, see?"
Dumont spread out his hands, Gallic fashion.
"My friend," he said softly, "there is no need for threats. Me, I know what to do. Me, I shall do it, so! But remember one thing, you: on the train, you shall introduce me to the lady, so I shall console her for the absent one. Eh?"
"Agreed!" Ericksen made an impatient gesture. "You're a dago and you can't help settin' your course by a woman, I s'pose. But you better watch out, Frenchy. This here one is married."
Dumont smiled. "I shall attend to that—to-night."