“Father, are you completely crazy? You haven't taken that spike out of his mouth.”
“Expect a man to remember everything when he is all wrapped in his own business and everybody trying to meddle with it?” grumbled Candage. He fumbled in his pocket and produced a knife. He slashed away the rope yarn which lashed the marlinespike. “If you can talk sense I'll help you do it! I reckon you can holler all you want to now. Them dudes can't find their own mouths in a fog, much less this schooner. Now talk up!”
Mayo worked his aching jaws and found his voice. “You know how I happened to get aboard, Captain Candage. I am skipper of the Olenia. Put back with me if you want to save trouble.”
“Not by a tin hoopus, sir! I ain't going about and tackle them reefs in this fog. I've got open sea ahead, and I shall keep going!”
Mayo was a sailor who knew that coast, and he admitted to himself that Candage's stubbornness was justified.
“I ain't responsible for your getting aboard here. I'll land you as soon as I can—and that covers the law, sir.”
During a prolonged silence the two men stared at each other.
“At any rate, Captain Candage, I trust you will not consider that you have a right to keep me tied up here any longer.”
“Now that there's a better understanding about who is boss aboard here, I don't know as I'm afraid to have you at large,” admitted the skipper. “I only warn you to remember your manners and don't forget that I'm captain.”
He flourished his clasp-knife and bent and cut the lashings. Then he strode across the cabin and performed like service for his daughter.