"Don't jump down a man's throat simultaneous," said Eales indignantly, "for in course I means it. And what's more, I've got the stuff. I ain't relyin' on that blasted old devil dodger aft for no measly five bob a week. Since I took the pledge not to get drunk—real drunk, that is—more'n once a month, I can trust myself with money, and I've got it 'ere."
He kicked the chest on which he sat to show his bank.
"Blimy," said a young cockney called Corlett, who was the happiest chap on board, "I'll 'ave a shot for Jack's ten dollars!"
"My chest's not locked," said Jack, and among so friendly a crowd the suggestion, which was the friendliest joke, was marked up to Eales as happy wit.
"I'm in the race for that purse," said Bush, who was the oldest seaman on board.
"We're all after it," said the crowd, and for days afterwards they chased Jack Eales with absurd proposals, the very least of which was a felony, and the most pleasing absolute piracy.
"Oh, go to thunder," said Jack, when a lump of a chap called Pizzey proposed to scuttle the Enchantress as she lay alongside the wharf.
"Oh, very well," said Pizzey, who was much hurt at the way his plan was received, "but I'll have you know that if you do it after all, that ten dollars is mine."
The nature of seamen is so childlike, so forgetful, so forgiving, that without further and continual irritation they would have talked till the vessel was towed down the Willamette and the Columbia, and for that matter all the way to Liverpool. But the skipper saw to it that they had something to growl about. He kept them working a quarter of an hour after knock-off time three times a week. He cut down their usual five shillings a week to a dollar, on the ground that he was reckoning in dollars just then. The fresh grub he sent on board was enough, as they said in the fo'c'sle, to make a pig take to fasting. And he nagged and growled without ceasing till Plump, the mate, who was a very decent fellow, hated him worse than the crew did. He listened to the second mate Dodman, when Dodman burst out into long-suppressed bad language.
"I oughtn't to agree with you, but I do, I own it freely," said Plump, as they stood against the poop-rail and watched Brogger pick his way through the mud on the wharf. "I ought to tell you to dry up, Mr. Dodman, but I find it hard to do my duty."