"No, I don't," replied Blaker—"not much I don't, not by a jugful. For if one of 'em went overboard, I'd be responsible before the throne. And don't you forget it."
"Damme, he's mad," said Sir Richard—"mad as a march hare. She'll be shaking the sticks out of her soon."
He leant over the break of the poop, and called up Wiggins.
"Mr. Wiggins, one word with you."
Wiggins came up, as Blaker roared his text through the trumpet.
"Will you stand by me, Mr. Wiggins, if I knock him down and take command?"
"I will; but mind his gun," said Wiggins. "When he's very bad, he'll shoot."
It was not any fear of Blaker's six-shooter that made the admiral hesitate. To take the command, even from a madman, at sea is a ticklish task and may land a man in gaol, for all his being a Shanghaied admiral.
"I tell you, Mr. Wiggins, that Simpson is a good man. I'll bring him aft again."
And Wiggins made no objection when Simpson was called up by the admiral.