Oakum Otie laid his folded paper upon the packet of Captain Mayo.
“You will leave the room gentlemen,” advised the captain.
Mr. Speed thrust out his bony elbows and cracked his hard fists together. “I have never liked dudes,” he stated. “I have been brought up that way. All my training with Cap'n Epps has been that way.”
“How do you fit into this thing?” demanded one of the yachtsmen.
“About like this,” averred Mr. Speed. He grabbed the young man by both shoulders and ran him out into the night before anybody could interfere. Then Mr. Speed reappeared promptly and inquired, “Which one goes next?”
“I think they will all go,” said the captain.
“Come on,” urged one of the party. “We can't afford to get into a brawl with natives.”
“You bet you can't,” retorted Oakum Otie. “I hain't hove bunches of shingles all my life for nothing!”
Mayo said nothing more. But after the yachtsmen had looked him over they went out, making the affair a subject for ridicule.
“Hope I done right and showed to you that I was thankful for good advice,” suggested Mr. Speed, seeking commendation.