CHAPTER IX
THE “JUAN” SAILS
They rose from the conference table, and Carquinez stood holding his coat together with a veined and knotted hand while the visitors were making their adieux.
“You haven’t a few feet of galvanized wire aboard?” asked Satan as he passed out, following Sellers.
“Come on deck,” said Sellers.
On deck he stood listening, while the other passed from galvanized wire to the question of spare ring-bolts and other trifles he stood desperately in need of. Like a hypnotized fowl in the hands of Satan, he made scarcely any resistance.
He had no ring-bolts, but the galvanized wire was forthcoming, also a little barrel for use as a buoy, some Burgundy pitch, an old paintbrush, a small can of turpentine, and a couple of pounds of twine.
A small boat-anchor that had raised Satan’s desires brought the séance to a conclusion and broke the spell that seemed to lie on Sellers.
Blessed if Satan wouldn’t be asking for his back teeth yet! What did he take the Juan for, a marine store? What would he want next, Carquinez?
They rowed off with the spoil, Sellers leaning on the rail and lovingly pressing on them the acceptance of other trifles, including a guitar.
Alongside the Sarah they found Jude waiting to receive them. She had been cleaning up the abalones, was dissatisfied with the result,—quarter of a matchbox full of seed pearls,—and said so.