“You arrange for another suit for me,” he said as he opened his wallet, in which reposed his pay, and prepared to hand it over, “and then I’ll speak to my ship-mates about their part in it. I guess we can raise quite a sum. It does seem a big step, though, from a blue-jacket to a mining magnate. I have to thank you for that. The only thing that worries me is the chance that they may grab me before I get to the mountains.”
“No chance. Schmidt, the boss of this place, will arrange all that. He’s helped lots of sailors before now. Now hand over that money.”
“All right. I’m your man——”
“No, you’re not. You belong to Uncle Sam!” And Ned’s hand fell on the young sailor’s shoulder. “Now put back your money and come with me.”
“No, you’re not. You belong to Uncle Sam.”—[Page 58].
Both men leaped to their feet. An angry light flashed into young Childs’ eyes as he saw Gunner’s-Mate Strong confronting him with a half-angry, half-pitying look on his firm, clean-cut features.
CHAPTER VI.
A TIGHT PLACE.
“What business have you butting in?” demanded the hawk-eyed man, pale with anger as he saw his gull being taken away from him.