“He's young, and independent. He has no idea of easing off his own notions so as to keep things running smooth with other people. I've done everything a man could to help him get on, but it's no use; he antagonizes the only people who can help him. He's bristling all the time. A couple of weeks ago he just naturally got sick of his mate and fired him. I smoothed things over and got the Cap'n to suggest another. And now he's fired this one, and won't have him on his schooner at all,—and I've had to take him in for the night.”
“Wasn't there any reason?”
“Reason—yes. I know he means to tell the whole story, but he has no idea how hasty he is sometimes. McGlory's so ugly I could hardly trust my own self with him. I thought the best thing would be to walk off for a while, and maybe we'd both cool off.”
“Dick's all right, though, isn't he? No—no trouble, or anything?”
“Why? Been hearing anything?”
“I—I've thought he wasn't quite himself lately.”
“Why did you think that?”
“Oh, I couldn't say, exactly.”
“Why, no, I don't think he's in any trouble.” Henry smiled again. “I suppose you know as much as I do what's bothering him.”
“No. What is it?”