But the smooth tones of Amos Bulfinch checked him.
"Rich they are, those merchants," agreed old Amos, "and their ships are many. But each man of them is as keen as a knife-blade; each has a thousand eyes! Where a thing can be done in the shadow of Rufus Stevens' Sons with ease and comfort, it could only be undertaken, in the case of these others, with much danger; at almost any moment we could expect to be laid by the heels."
"Weir is a dog-fox; I'd follow his plan without question where I'd not even listen to another," said the big young man. "Leave the other houses alone. This one is rich enough, for the time, at least."
Tarrant regarded the younger man, and then the elder one, with a curl at his lip.
"You both have a deal of respect for Weir's opinions in some things," he said. "And yet, strangely enough, you have very little in others. There is no thing which he has spoken more sharply against than the proposed dealing with the French agent, now on his way here, in the matter of letters of marque. And yet you strongly favor the project."
"The matter of the letters of marque is to be a venture of our own," said the big young man. "That is, if the captain is disinclined to join us."
Old Bulfinch nodded.
"Quite right," he said. "It is to be an affair of our own. But we shall be prudent, for all that. We shall be exceedingly careful that every legal aspect be observed."
Tarrant laughed.
"A saying like that has an odd sound," said he, "when I remember that Blake here," and he pointed to the big young man, "was brought north to take active charge of the matter—Blake, who for years has given as much thought to the legality of any action as he would to a snap of his fingers."