They went at this—all but Pink, who lingered. “Cap'n—”
“Well, what is it?”
“I was just goin' to say—it's more'n square—you've been more'n white to me—”
“Hold on there. You needn't bother about engrossing any resolutions. You 'll find it hard enough.”
“Well—I'm mighty obliged for—”
“Not at all.”
Thirty-six hours later, when the Merry Anne was slipping through the islands west of the straits and heading southward for the run down Lake Michigan, McGlory slipped aft and addressed Harper, who had the wheel. “I was sort o' hasty awhile ago, Pink, when I hit you that time. I hope you ain't a-layin' it up against me.”
Pink stared at him, but offered no reply.
“I was a little excited. You see, Cap'n Smiley's a good sailor, but he don't know where his own interest is.”
“I ain't got nothin' to say to you about Cap'n Smiley.”