Keeney. Me and Mr. Slocum has business to talk about—ship's business.
Mrs. Keeney. Very well, David.
[She goes slowly out, rear, and leaves the door three-quarters shut behind her.]
Keeney. Best not have her on deck if they's goin' to be any trouble.
Mate. Yes, sir.
Keeney. And trouble they's going to be. I feel it in my bones. [Takes a revolver from the pocket of his coat and examines it.] Got your'n?
Mate. Yes, sir.
Keeney. Not that we'll have to use 'em—not if I know their breed of dog—jest to frighten 'em up a bit. [Grimly.] I ain't never been forced to use one yit; and trouble I've had by land and by sea s'long as I kin remember, and will have till my dyin' day, I reckon.
Mate [hesitatingly]. Then you ain't goin'—to turn back?
Keeney. Turn back! Mr. Slocum, did you ever hear o' me pointin' s'uth for home with only a measly four hundred barrel of ile in the hold?