"Eight bells? Four o'clock." Noyes drew out his watch. "Why, it's nine minutes to that now."
"So near? Then I'd better begin to knock off, if I'm going to wash off and be ready in time, hadn't I?" He finished his thread, gathered up his stock and dies, and strolled off.
Noyes headed for the bridge. The captain's glance, as he came up the ladder, was not at all [pg 195] encouraging; but Noyes was already weary of the captain's hectoring glances.
"Captain, are you going to let it go on?" he asked, and not too deferentially.
"Let what go on?"
"That fight. They're going to have it out in a few minutes. Aft there—look."
"I'm not looking. And I'll take good care I don't—not in that direction. And what I don't see I can't stop, can I? Besides, I hope he beats that pump-man to a jelly."
"Why, what's wrong with him?"
"Wrong? He's dangerous."
"Dangerous?"