“A black-bearded old Spanish villain called Blueneck. Yes, and what’s more, I set eyes on him kissing my wife.”
A roar of laughter greeted this outburst, and Joe looked discomforted.
“I stopped it, of course,” he remarked.
Another roar shook the building. Joe reddened again.
“I don’t see why you’re a-laughing,” he said gruffly.
The men round the fire laughed again.
“I can manage my wife better nor any man here and I’m willing to prove it with these,” he said, putting up two bony fists.
The laughter died away and no one spoke for a moment or so. Then Joe, all his anger vanished as suddenly as it had come, remarked, “Black’erchief Dick, eh? Where did you hear of him? I didn’t know he ever came up east.”
“Nor don’t he as a rule,” said Hal, “but he has had to put in here owing to the tide. I reckon he’ll be up here soon.”
“Ah, will he now?” Joe’s eyebrows rose expressively, then he put down his mug. “Did you say he was putting in here—crew and all?” he asked, wiping his mouth.