"It means that we're going to help out General Mendez with that warning of the don's. You wouldn't take the responsibility, but Speake and Clackett and me are willin' to bear it."
"Do you mean to say," cried Matt hotly, "that you have deliberately sailed away from Belize without permission from Captain Nemo, Jr., or from me?"
"That's the size of it," was the respectful but decisive answer. "We know that the cap'n would tell us to go ahead and help the don. We ain't finding any fault with you for not doing it on your own hook, 'cause you're a stickler for what you think's your duty. We feel we're doin' right, though, and we want you to feel the same way."
"This is mutiny!" cried Matt.
"That's a pretty hard name for it, Matt. I've been in ships, man and boy, for thirty years, and this is the first time any one ever accused me of mutiny. We just think we know what ought to be done and are goin' ahead and doin' it. You'll be able to tell the cap'n, when you next see him, that you couldn't help yourself. Speake, Clackett and me are banking on it that the cap'n'll say we did just right."
This line of reasoning surprised Matt. For a moment he was silent, turning it over in his mind.
"I can hardly believe this of you, Gaines," said the young motorist finally. "How are you running the ship?"
"We're short-handed, and that's a fact; still, we're making shift to get along. We're running on the surface, so Clackett don't have anything to do in the tank room, and he's running the engine."
"Who's doing the steering?"
"The don's doing that. He knows the coast, he says, and he seems to be right handy with the wheel. But I'm watchin' to see that he don't make any flukes."