“Yes, too dark. I don't like it. Makes me think of the cyclone three years ago April, when the Kate Howard went down off Lakeville. I spent three hours roosting on the topmast that day. It was black then, like this. If it keeps up, you 'll have to turn on your lights in here.”
“Guess I will. It wouldn't hurt now. Well, good-by, Captain. Drop in again next time you run in here.”
“All right. But there's no telling when that will be. I have to go where Captain Stenzenberger sends me, you know.”
“You don't own your schooner yet, then?”
“No; only a quarter of it. Well, good-by.” And he left the shop with the corals, securely wrapped, stowed in an inside pocket.
The first big drops of rain were falling when he reached the schooner. The deck was deserted, but he found Roche and his wharf acquaintances settled comfortably in the cabin. Their talk stopped abruptly at the sight of his boots coming down the companionway.
“Why isn't the load lashed down, Pete?” he asked, addressing Roche.
“Why—oh, it was lookin' so bad, I thought we'd better wait till you come.”
“Where's the tug? Don't Peters know we want him?”
The loungers were silent. All looked at Roche.