Calamity cut him short.
"I know perfectly well what I'm doing, or I shouldn't be here. Your papers, Captain."
"By what right do you ask for my papers?" demanded the other, who showed signs of again becoming truculent.
"That," answered Calamity shortly, pointing to the Hawk's guns.
"This is outrageous, and I shall——"
"Your papers, Captain," interrupted Calamity peremptorily.
There was something in his voice which made the Ann's skipper realise that argument was not only useless, but probably dangerous as well. He shrugged his shoulders and led the way to his cabin, where he invited Calamity to sit down. Then he unlocked a drawer and took from it a metal deed-box which he placed on the table.
"Where the devil are the keys?" he muttered, and, stooping over the box, began to fumble in his pockets.
Suddenly stepping back, he raised his head, and, as he did so, gave a sharp exclamation of mingled rage and fear. He was staring right into the barrel of a nasty-looking automatic pistol which Calamity was pointing directly at him.
"I've seen that game played before," said Calamity with a quiet smile. "Hand me your pistol; butt first, please."