When I went into the saloon Captain Boomsby was seated in the rear of the room, where he had a view of both bars. He was at least half "full" himself. He was badly bloated, and his face was red and almost honeycombed with toddy-blossoms.
"Well, Sandy, what do you want now?" demanded the saloon-keeper, when I came into his presence. He did not call me "Alick," as others did, but still used the name by which I had been known when he took me from the poor-house in the State of Maine.
"Nothing, Captain Boomsby; only we sail to-morrow, and I thought I would say good-by to you, for I may never see you again," I replied.
"I never want to see you no more," growled he. "You've always behaved bad ever since I fust knowed you, and you will come to some bad end yet."
"I hope not," I said, seating myself.
"You sartin will. I took care on you when you was little, and done everything I could for you; but you have worked agin me from the fust."
As I seated myself I saw a customer come up to the front bar. He had a package, which he laid upon the counter while he poured out his dram.
"I don't think it's any use for you and me to talk over these things," I added, turning my eyes from the counter to the bloated face of my former tyrant. "We shall not be likely to agree in regard to matters in the past."
"You know just as well as I do that the steam-yacht you sail in rightfully belongs to me," he added.
"I think not. If she belongs to anybody besides myself, it must be to my father."