"Now get to work," he ordered, quietly. "You can quit if you want to, but I'll lay out the first fellow that goes after a drink. Make up your minds what you want to do. Quick!"
There was a moment's hesitation, and then, with the absurd vagary of a crowd, they broke into loud laughter and slouched back to work, two of them dragging the cause of the outburst to the water-faucet, where they held his head under the stream until he began to sputter and squirm. Before those at the gangway had noticed the disturbance it was all over, and thereafter Boyd experienced no trouble. On the contrary, they worked the better for his proof of authority, and took him into their fellowship as if he had qualified to their entire satisfaction. Even the man he had struck seemed to share in the general respect rather than to cherish the least ill-feeling. The respite was brief, however, for the work had not continued many hours before a stranger made his way quietly in upon the dock and began to argue with the first fisherman he met. Boyd discovered him quickly, and, approaching him, demanded:
"What do you want?"
"Nothing," said the new-comer.
"Then get out."
"What for? I'm just talking to this man."
"I can't allow any talking here. Hurry up and get out."
"This is a free country. I ain't hurting you."
"Will you go?"
"Say! You can't load that cargo this way," the man began, threateningly. "And you can't make me go—"