“We shall strive to make the voyage as interesting as possible, for you, Mr. Pitt,” said he.
“I am sure of that,” said I, “and I will do my poor best to reciprocate.”
“In a rough seaman’s way I have studied a little—enough to be interested in books. So we have, in a way, a bond of interest to begin with.”
“Mr. Chanler has told me something of your achievements, Captain Brack; I am sure you belittle them.”
It was very ridiculous. Brack had put me on my mettle; so there we stood and slavered each other with fine speeches, each knowing well that the other meant not a word of the esteem that he uttered. Yet as the luncheon progressed I was inclined to agree with George: Brack was a wonderful chap. The man’s mind seemed to be a great, well-ordered storehouse of facts and impressions which he had collected in his travels. Sitting back in his chair he dominated the company, led the talk whither he willed, and having said his say, beamed contentedly. And before the meal was over I had a distinct impression that Brack not Chanler, was master on the yacht.
Chanler, Brack, Riordan and Dr. Olson drank steadily throughout the luncheon. Mr. Wilson and myself drank not at all. As the luncheon neared its end, Chanler, his eyes steady but his under lip hanging drunkenly, broke out:
“Well, how about it, cappy? Did you land your two bad men?”
“Yes,” said Brack. “After luncheon I can promise you a little sport.”
Chanler laughed a dreary, half-drunken laugh.
“Gardy, we’ve fixed up a little sport. Awf’lly dull lying here. Have to pass the time some way.”