"An' here comes Cap'n Black!" shouted one of the men.
Captain Hand of the Dictator, too, was on his way over the ice. Both skippers had observed the cessation of the work and the separation of the men into two hostile parties. Familiar as they were with such disputes, they needed no message to tell them that their presence was urgently needed on the floe. They came over the ice at full speed, at the same time trying to get at the merits of the quarrel from the men who ran to meet them; and, being fat sea-captains, both of them, and altogether unused to hurried locomotion afoot, they were quite out of breath when they met.
The skipper of the Lucky Star was a florid, peppery little man, much given to standing upon his dignity.
"Cap'n Hand," he puffed, "this is—an out—rage, sir! Is this the way——"
"'Scuse me—Cap'n B-Black—sir," the skipper of the Dictator panted, his little red eyes almost hidden by his bushy brows; "but—I'm wonder—ful s'prised—that——"
Captain Black drew a long breath, and proceeded more easily, but still with magnificent dignity. "I'm wonderful surprised t' know, sir," he said, "that this is the way Cap'n Hand makes a good v'y'ge of it every year. I never knew how before, sir."
"I'd have you t' know, sir," returned Captain Hand, bristling ominously, "that I 'lows no man t' call me a thief."
"I'd have you t' know, sir, that your men have stolen my fat."
"An' I'll have you t' know, sir, that that's t' be proved."
"Cap'n Hand, sir," declared Captain Black, swelling like a pouter-pigeon the meanwhile, "you whole crew outnumbers mine nigh two t' one, or I'd load every pound o' fat on the ice on my ship. But I tells you now, sir, that I'll have the law o' you at St. John's. If you touch them six tows I'll have you sent t' coolie for a thief, sir, if there's an honest jury in the land! Mark my words, sir, I'll do it!"