“Look here!” began Sellers violently—then he closed up: Cark had given him a kick under the table. Then there was silence for a moment, during which these two scoundrels seemed to brood together telepathically.
Then Cark spoke, addressing Satan.
“Will you take the air on deck for wan moment with your friend?” said Cark.
“Sure,” said Satan.
A few minutes later they were called down again.
“See here,” said Sellers, acting as spokesman for the others, “we don’t want to bear hard on you, but we’ve been at a big loss over this business.”
“And who let you in for it?” asked Satan. “Haven’t you been chasin’ me since last fall over the Nombre? Was it my fault she weren’t there?”
“Well, anyhow we’re losers. But I’m coming to the derelic’. You’ll never be able to do the tow with the Sarah—why, the Sarah ain’t bigger than her, and you’re underhanded anyhow.”
“That’s so,” said Satan.
“Well, what I propose is this,” said Sellers. “We’ll drop claims for the run down here and only ask a thousand and forty of you, and you drop claims on the derelic’.”