“This isn’t a passenger boat,” shot out Joe.
“We only came out here as an accommodation and as an act of humanity,” supplemented Nat. His intuitive feeling of dislike for the dictatorial stranger was growing every minute.
Perhaps the other noticed this, for he descended the gangway and took his place beside the ship’s doctor on the lower platform of the gangway.
“You must pardon me if my tone was abrupt,” he said in conciliatory tones; “the fact of the matter is, that I must return as soon as possible to San Francisco for many reasons, and this ship does not stop till she reaches Mazatlan. It was my eagerness that made me sound abrupt.”
“Oh, that’s all right,” rejoined Nat, liking the cringing tone of the man even less than he had his former manner, “I guess we can put you ashore.”
The man reached into his pocket and produced a wallet. He drew several bills from it.
“And here’s something to pay for my passage,” he said eagerly.
“Never mind that,” said Nat, waving the proffered money aside. “As I told you, we are not running a passenger boat. If we land you in Santa Barbara it will be simply as an accommodation.”
“And one for which I will be grateful,” was the reply. “I’ll have a steward put my baggage on board your boat at once. I may be of aid to you in caring for Mr. Jenkins, too, for I am a physician.”
“Yes, this is Dr. Sartorius of San Francisco,” rejoined Dr. Adams, as the other ascended the gang plank with long, swift strides and was heard above giving orders for the transfer of his belongings.