"Then Sharp ought to send us a couple of cases of whisky aboard. I'll ask him about it," said the skipper.
Later on in the day the chief engineer put in an appearance, and staggered into Captain Seagrave's cabin.
"Oh, it's you, is it, Mac?"
"Yes, it's me—what's left of me. You'll ruin the ship, Captain. It's not fair to the men; it's demoralising. I hope next time you get a tip you'll keep it to yourself."
"That's ungrateful. How much did you win?"
"Only a tenner. I had not sufficient faith in you to put on more than a couple of sovs."
Job Seagrave laughed. He got on very well with his officers and crew. They really liked the "old man" because he invariably stood by them, no matter what trouble they got into, or whether they were right or wrong.
A clerk from the shipping office came to the door of the cabin, and handed the captain a note. It advised him that the "Golden Land" must sail as soon as possible after the remainder of the cargo, which was to be delivered that day, was got on board.
"All serene," said Job. "But what about my passengers? They don't expect her to get away before next week."
"Then you'll have to hurry them up."