“Not yet.”
“Then do it at once. Use every argument you can think of to induce him to go ashore, and if you can not make him listen to reason call your crew and put him off.”
Mr. Mortimer descended the stairs leading into a little dismal apartment in the stern of the boat that was dignified by the name of “the cabin,” and the captain approached his passenger, and extending a roll of bills, said:
“I’m sorry to be obliged to say that I can’t take you to Orleans.”
“Sho!” exclaimed Sanders.
“It’s a fact. My cabin has been given up to a crazy boy and his keepers, and I can’t accommodate you. Here’s the passage money you paid me.”
“I don’t want it. A bargain’s a bargain.”
“I tell you that I can’t take you.”
“O, I hain’t no ways particl’ar as to commodation. I can hang up anywhar.”
“But I don’t want you on board my boat, and you shan’t stay either. Here’s your money. Take it and go ashore.”