"It was prime champagne, Shack."
"Granted, but"—and here he relieved himself by a tremendous expletive, "why did you put that spy aboard of us?"
"In the first place Mr. Owen is no spy. He cares little or nothing what cargo you carry, but he is deeply interested in petticoats—your young lady is his betrothed, and he vowed he would go with me on board just to see her. Shackelford, that's a man after your own heart."
And Shackelford, realizing the truth of this point blank assertion could only growl.
"Interrupted in his tete a tete with the young lady by your gentleman there, they had words, being rivals, and it resulted in Mr. Owen tossing the elegant Adonis overboard. Shack, that is just what you would have done, confound you."
Shackelford could not deny it.
Really Captain Beven should have been a lawyer, since he knew so well how to draw the fire of his adversary, and leave him not a foot upon which to stand.
"For you to force your way to the deck of my craft under these conditions I should consider a high act of piracy and I assure you my men stand here ready to back me up in all I do. Is it so, men?"
A hearty "ay, ay sir" came ringing from the crew.
"Now Captain Shackelford, if you choose to board me you do so at your own risk. There be English arms and hearts here just as stanch as your own. Come by daylight and by Heavens I will receive you as an honored guest—yes, and open another basket of champagne for the occasion; but I beg of you let discretion play the part of valor now."