"I don't know that you are wise, old man; but I am glad to have you, just the same." He gave Walthew a whimsical look. "Haven't you come to a decision rather suddenly?"
"That doesn't matter," said Walthew, "I mean to stick to it."
CHAPTER XII
BAITING THE SMUGGLERS
It was late, and the dew was heavy. Macallister's thin clothes were getting damp as he walked impatiently up and down the mole. The Enchantress's gig lay near the steps, but her crew had not arrived, although Macallister had waited half an hour for them. This by no means pleased him, because, while not a tyrant, he expected his orders to be obeyed. Besides, he resented the ingratitude of the men. He had agreed with Grahame that it was prudent to moor the Enchantress out in the harbor and keep the crew short of money. They had behaved well, and during the afternoon Macallister had given them a few pesetas and allowed them a run ashore, although he imagined he had kept within a limit that would ensure their sobriety.
They had, however, not returned, and he felt disturbed as he watched the twinkling anchor-lights and the ripples flash in the silvery track the moon cast across the water. Boats were coming and going, and when one approached the landing Macallister drew back into the shadow. He had made the acquaintance of the captain and the engineer of the vessel from which the boat came, and he did not want to be found waiting for his unpunctual crew. The footsteps of those who landed were growing faint when he heard singing farther up the mole. The voice was unsteady, and the patter of bare feet that accompanied it suggestively uneven.
Macallister knew the song, and was not surprised that his men, who were obviously coming back the worse for liquor, should show a taste for good music, for this is common among Spanish-Americans. It was, however, difficult to understand how they had made the money he had given them go so far.
"Where kept ye, ye drunken swine?" he asked when they lurched into sight.
"No savvy," answered his fireman, Pepe, and Macallister explained what he thought of them in the most virulent epithets used along the Clyde.
This relieved his feelings and satisfied his sense of discipline, but he did not think it wise to translate his remarks: Spanish half-breeds have fiery tempers and carry knives.