"You may be sure he knows what he's about," she said, when the mate had finished.
"I'm willin' to allow that," he answered; "but it don't help us any. We didn't sign on this packet for a pleasure cruise, and good intentions don't cut no ice."
"Then you don't trust the Captain?" she inquired, with a touch of scorn in her voice.
"Now you're gettin' a hitch on the wrong cow. I didn't say anything of the sort. What I want to know is, when are we goin' to start biz, the real biz? I ain't out to study the beauties of the deep; none of us are; we've seen 'em too often, and they ain't none too beautiful neither."
"Why don't you ask the Captain?"
"That ain't all," went on Mr. Dykes, ignoring the question, "it won't do to bank too much on this here crew. They're gettin' ugly, and when they do stampede it won't be like last time. There'll be real, genuine trouble accompanied by corpses—you can put your shirt on that."
"But you told me he quelled a mutiny single-handed when you were only a few days out."
"Yes; but this is different. Then the men were unprepared, they didn't know what to expect, and so the old man was able to raise Cain before they'd got their bearin's. This time it'll be different; it'll be a real, genuine, bloody mutiny, with hell to pay."
"Personally, I have no fear. I would back your Captain against any number of such scum," answered the girl a little contemptuously.
Mr. Dykes shook his head gloomily.