The door opened, and a short, thick-set, weather-beaten, grim-looking old sea-dog made his appearance, and giving his head a slight jerk to one side, by way of acknowledging the judge’s presence, walked straight up to the fireplace, and deliberately spit a discharge of tobacco-juice right into the eyes of an unoffending cat, by way of commencing business. Then turning his back to the mantel, he put his hands behind him, crossed his feet, and stood ready to commence operations.
“Well, square, what’s in the wind now?” demanded the new-comer, at length, seeing the judge did not seem inclined to speak.
“Bart,” said the judge, in a low, cautious tone, “I have a job for you.”
“All right—I’m there! what’s it, square? Anything in the old line?”
“No; this is something quite different. How long do you remain here this time?”
“Can’t say for certain, boss. The schooner’s off a-repairin’ and we’re tryin’ the land dodge till she’s ready again! no telling though, yet, when that may be.”
“Is that woman who accompanies you here likewise?”
“Cap’n’s wife? Well, yes, square, I reckon she is. What do you want of her?”
“I want her to take charge of a young girl that you must carry off. Do you understand?”
“Forcible ’duction, ’saultin’ and batterin.’ Come, square, you’re goin’ it strong.”