"See here, Ballard, it won't do for you to quarrel with me!"
"I don't care who I quarrel with!"
Burton advanced and whispered:
"I might come 'Quaker' on you, and give you a bad name."
"You can do just as you choose. I am not asking odds of you."
"I've my suspicions of you, Ballard."
Burton spoke in a hoarse whisper; the man was excited and trembling with rage and irritation.
It is possible a tragic denouement might have followed the dialogue, had there not come just at that moment a startling interruption to the impending quarrel.
Again there came the signal cry: "Lights ahead!" and all hands ran eagerly to the rail to study the character of the distant craft.
All was silent watchfulness and expectancy as the two boats approached nearer and nearer across the dark waters. Suddenly there shot up high into the air a rocket and when far toward the clouds, a "bomb burst in air," and there followed a shower of many colored lights.