"Have done!" the little skipper exclaimed. "If you're all for marooning him, I'm satisfied. But——"
The pause was doubly suggestive. Marr glanced at the two engineers and Whitehouse. "You know the consequences," Marr said. "This fellow will bob up some day with all our names and with two or three revenue men behind him. There's no getting away from that fact. It may be in Shanghai and it may be in Frisco."
"Or Liverpool," Whitehouse suggested. "I'm going to Liverpool and Birkenhead when I get the bloomin' pile from the pelties. What's to prevent 'im bobbin' hup there?"
"Nothing!" said Marr.
"Then let's take a deuced vote. I 'ate's to do hit, but I votes for walkin' the plank."
"Same here," said the two engineers in one voice.
"You, Crinko?"
The Kanaka's face softened as he leered at Marr, and the bronze of his sea-beaten features took on a yellowish tinge. He turned and smiled openly toward Stirling, who stood with folded arms and the weight of his body resting on the balls of his feet.
"Me like 'em," the native said. "Me no vote. He good man—sometimes."
Marr caught the note in the simple tones and frowned. He felt himself slipping. There were two more Kanakas in the cabin who would follow the big harpooner; the three together might prove troublesome.