“I've taken care of you for three years or so.”
“Yes. But you did it because—because—Well, I don't know why you did, exactly, but you won't have to do it any longer. I'm through.”
The captain still stared steadily, and what he saw in the dark eyes which flashed defiance back at him seemed to trouble him a little. His tugs at his beard became more strenuous.
“Humph!” he muttered. “Humph! . . . Well, Al, of course I can't make you stay by main force. Perhaps I could—you ain't of age yet—but I shan't. And you want to quit the ship altogether, do you?”
“If you mean this office—yes, I do.”
“I see, I see. Want to quit South Harniss and your grandmother—and Rachel—and Labe—and Helen—and all the rest of 'em?”
“Not particularly. But I shall have to, of course.”
“Yes. . . . Um-hm. . . . Yes. Have you thought how your grandmother's liable to feel when she hears you are goin' to clear out and leave her?”
Albert had not thought in that way, but he did now. His tone was a trifle less combative as he answered.
“She'll be sorry at first, I suppose,” he said, “but she'll get over it.”