"Oh, Butterworth, do apologise," said Gruddle with tears in his eyes, "do apologise, for if you eat a little dirt in doin' so it is far better than eatin' all you will if we continue this 'orrid and disastrous trip."
The others agreed with Gruddle, and at last Butterworth was induced to put his pride in his pocket and try an apology on Cade.
"It won't work, I know it won't work," said the cause of all their woes. "That Cade 'as a down on me I know, and 'e isn't a gentleman and won't take an apology from one. But all the same I'll try, though I don't see why it should all be put on me. Men like these officers of ours think a deal more of a few shillin's a week than a few cross words, and it was Gruddle who cut down their wages. I think it is Gruddle who should apologise."
But Gruddle argued that he had not called Cade a hound, and when Butterworth went off on his painful errand he turned to the others and said—
"The hidea of Butterworth thinkin' that 'e is a gentleman!"
They all shook their heads at the idea of Butterworth doing so, and told each other stories of his origin in a pawnship in the Borough Road.
"And 'e 'asn't manners either," sighed Shody.
By this time it was noon, and Cade was on the bridge, while Thripp was in the skipper's cabin hearing a fuller account of the row than Cade had given him. Cade was in no frame of mind to receive an apology from anyone. He took things hard, and chewed over them horribly.
"Hound, clumsy hound, am I?" said Cade as he paced the bridge with his hands in his pockets. "I'd like to 'clumsy hound' him. Clumsy hound, and I didn't knock him down! Bein' married makes a coward of a man!"
He turned about to find the object of his wrath on the sacred bridge. It made him quite forget that he was married, and that Mrs. Cade was hard to deal with if the money was not forthcoming in due season. He stared at Butterworth in the most offensive way, and the apology with which the junior partner was primed stuck in his throat.