'Hustle over here.'
Dave came leisurely across the grass space.
'When are you getting, Dave?'
'Morrow; noon,' came the brief reply.
'Call it day after, and I'll come,' said the Factor.
The Captain looked surprised. 'How'll you manage, Alf?'
'Don't tell you everything, Davey. I've got my leave all right. Justin can fix things while I'm away. Goldam! it's time I had a bit of a rip up.'
'Well, I can't do it, Alf.'
'You can, Dave. Just think a while. You're on good time this trip. A day this way or that won't go for anything. I'll fix it up for you, Dave. The skins weren't quite ready to be shipped; the darned old boat wanted some pitch on her side—scraped her over a sunk rock, you know, Dave. Lots of easy lies, if you like to make them. I can fix five first-classers while you're thinking out one hoodoo, Dave.'
'You can't by a jugful,'said the Captain, hotly. 'I've more practice than you, Alf. There's generally something to reckon for, end of the trip. Tell you, it strains a fellow's invention pretty hard sometimes.'