“Hullo, Satan!” cried Sellers as the bow oar hooked on.
“Hullo, yourself!” replied Satan. “What you doin’ down here away?”
“Tell you when I get aboard,” said Sellers. “Why, there’s the kid! Hullo, Kid!”
“Claws off!” cried Jude. “You try to come aboard and I’ll land you with this mop! You can talk from the boat.”
Sellers sat down again in the sternsheets.
“She won’t let you aboard,” said Satan, speaking as though Jude were not present. “You shouldn’t have sassed her the way you did over there at Lone.”
“I’m sure I beg your pardon,” said Sellers. “I’m trooly sorry to have trod on a female’s sussuptibilities; but what I’m wishin’ to say is this, and it’s as easy said from here as on deck: You’ve got to come aboard the Juan, you and that thousand dollars you’ve had from Cark, to say nothin’ of the coin you’ve had from Cleary, an’ be tried by C’t Martial, an’ take your sentence. If you don’t, I’ll board you, me and Cleary, an’ go through your ship, an’ fling the lot of you in the lagoon—d’you take me? I’m not funnin’.”
“I’ll come,” said Satan. “I want to have a talk with Cark anyhow.”
“And he wants to have a talk with you.”
“Right. Off you go, and I’ll follow.”