“You—you’ll touch at Belize!” he stormed.
“Belize,” said Johnny calmly, “is four hours off our course. We are headed for the open sea, and eventually for New York. I don’t like to seem pig-headed, nor over important, but we are not going to alter our course.”
In this he was wrong. He was destined to alter his course in a manner that was pleasing to no one.
“You will take me to Belize or I will have you up in the Marine Court.”
“You’ll not have much of a case,” said Johnny. “You were adrift. We picked you up at your own request. The law allows us to charge you for your passage to our own port. We’ll pass that up. You may as well make yourself comfortable. We will dock at New York in good time.”
“A very cold day when you dock in New York with this—”
The man checked his speech with difficulty, then turning on his heel, went stamping down the deck.
He had said enough. Johnny guessed that he had a scorpion on board.
“When the time comes he’ll bite,” he told himself.
For a moment he considered turning about and heading for Belize. This thought was dismissed in a moment.