At any other time he would never have admitted it.
"And the California will sail in three days."
"Righto," said Smith. "Simpson is a good tough man and so is old Blaker. Bill, the California will do. But it's an almighty pity the Harvester ain't here. I never knew a more unlucky thing. But we must put up with the next best."
"But how'll you corral the admiral, sir?" asked Bill.
"You leave that to me," replied his boss. "I've got a very fruitful notion as will fetch him if he's half the man he was."
Next evening Smith found occasion to run across a couple of the Triumphant's crew, and he got them to come into his house for a drink.
"Are these galoots to be dosed and put away?" asked the bar-tender.
"Certainly not," said Smith. "Fill 'em up with good honest liquor at my expense."
The bar-tender hardly knew where good honest liquor was to be found in that house, but he gave the two men-o'-war's men the slowest poison he had, and they were soon merry.
"Is the admiral as dead keen on fightin' with his fists as he was?" asked Smith.