Thripp said that he was.
"My boys will kill him, I shouldna wonder," said Mac. "But if they should, I'm hopin' it will be an accident, Thripp."
He wiped his hands with a lump of waste, and thereby signified that he wiped his hands of Shody's untimely decease.
"The oil is bad," said Mac. "I'm of a solid opeenion that Shody won't be so oily after we are through the tropics as he is the noo."
He said no more. He was a man of few words. Thripp knew he could be trusted for deeds. He went on deck and was almost sorry for Shody. The partners were quite sorry for themselves, and felt as helpless as flies in the web of a spider. They ceased to struggle, and when the usual grub of the Nemesis was served to them by an insolent steward, who cared no longer for their authority, they sat and did not eat it and said nothing.
The end came at noon next day, when they were all on deck in fine weather, with Gibraltar far away on the port beam. Old Mac came on deck and complained to the skipper that he was short-handed in the stokehold. Cade spoke up with a pleasant grin.
"You know, Mr. Maclehose, that we can't spare you anyone from the deck. We're short ourselves, are we not, Mr. Thripp?"
"Two short at least," said Thripp, who also smiled as if he were pleased with the fact.
"I'll find you help," said Jordan, who was the only one who did not smile. He turned to the partners, who were clustered together in a sullen and disconsolate group.
"Do you hear, gentlemen, that the chief engineer is short of the hands he should have? I think I told you so in the office, and if I remember rightly, Mr. Shody said I would have to do on what the firm thought enough."