"Did she say that?"
"Sure, she don't know nothin' about you."
The look of fear came into the tall man's eyes and he squeegeed the deck vigorously. Then he went slowly forward and put the tool away.
One of the sailors struck off six bells and the cook announced that breakfast was ready for the Captain and the guest. As the saloon was for the owner and his party, the meal was served in the galley, the Captain and sanctified man sitting at the small table used to manipulate the several ingredients which went to make a yacht's meal.
"Do you think we'll have good weather, Captain?" asked the tall man, starting in at a plate of prepared oats.
"Naw," snapped the skipper, who still held vision of his night's rest upon the galley floor.
"D'ye mind me sayin' a thank ye fer the vittles, hey?"
"Do yer prayin' to yerself," snapped the Captain.
The long man raised his eyes and muttered something in his soft voice.