The Greek snapped his jaws together like a shark, and then grinned.
"I tella you the God's trutha. I would as soona shoota a kanaka as I would shoota a rat."
"So would I, mister," broke in Warner; "and if the skipper gives the word, I guess these niggers of mine can jest wipe out the whole hell-fired lot of crawlers that beat you off. Give my crowd fifteen Sniders and a hundred rounds each and you see and smell more dead and stinkin' kanakas lyin' around on these here beaches in forty-eight hours than you ever saw in your life. I'm right in for this sort of work."
Barry looked at him, trying to veil his contempt and disgust for the ruffian under the guise of indifference.
"There'll be no need, I think, Captain Rawlings, for you to employ Mr. Warner's fifteen——"
"Sixteen there would be, mister, if you hadn't booted my best man and broke his ribs when he was sitting down peaceable and filling my pipe."
Barry put the curb upon his rising temper, and ignoring Warner's remark was again addressing himself to the captain, when the Greek again interfered.
"By Goda! what Mr. Warn' say quita true. I agree wis him; I say that if any dam kanaka interfera with your business the besta thing to do is to puta the bullet into him."
"Then you had better keep that to yourself," said Barry pointedly; "if these kanaka sailors of ours heard you say that, they would turn rusty on us, and cause a lot of trouble."
"Quite true, Mr. Barry," said Rawlings suavely; "but Paul doesn't mean altogether what he says."