“Because those two masts of yours are not provided with yardarms. You might possibly hang me from the funnel, or allow me to dangle in chains from one of the arms of your steam crane, but that’s all.”
“Why don’t you and your gang of ruffians climb aboard here like real pirates, and make me walk the plank?”
“I have climbed aboard like a real pirate, and I am going to make you walk the plank.”
“The devil you are!” cried the captain, rising, his two clenched hands resting on the table, his naturally florid face still further flushed with wrath. “I’ll show you—I’ll show you what we do to men of your kind that dare to come aboard a ship on the high seas.”
“Sit down, my dear man, sit down,” pleaded Stranleigh soothingly. “Don’t bluster. What’s the use of making a fuss? Let’s discuss the thing amicably.”
“Make me walk the plank, will you?” roared the captain, a-quiver with resentment.
“Oh, well, well, if you object, of course that puts a different complexion on the matter. I thought that walking the plank was a customary nautical amusement. I seem to have been misled by friend Clark Russell. If it isn’t etiquette, let’s say no more about it. Do sit down, captain.”
But the captain wouldn’t sit down. His eyes glared, his face grew redder, and his lips quivered with animosity.
“You come alongside with your toy yacht!”
“It’s a toy, captain, that spins along a little faster than this old tub.”