"Just shipped with Cap'n Joel," Davis replied, not slacking his gait, but rather increasing it, as befitted a little man, sensitive as to his size, when walking with a long-legged companion.
"That's what I wanted to see you about," Medbury told him. "You're not going." He smiled, but he glanced uneasily at Davis out of the corners of his eyes.
Davis stopped and looked at him. He was a middle-aged man with a red beard and an uncertain temper, and now he stared at Medbury with flushing face. Then he broke into a laugh.
"I ain't, eh?" he demanded good-naturedly. "I'd like to know why not."
Medbury smiled and laid his hand on the other's shoulder.
"Because I want to go myself, John," he replied. "I've got to go."
Davis stared at him with dropping jaw.
"You!"
"That's what I said," Medbury replied.
For a moment Davis stood grinning uncertainly; then he looked up.