“Why, this is robbery.”
“You are at liberty to call the coast-guardman.”
And Clubin fixed his eye on Rantaine.
“Stay, Mess Clubin,” said Rantaine, making a slight forward movement, and holding out his open hand.
The title “Mess” was a delicate flattery.
“Stay where you are, Rantaine.”
“Mess Clubin, let us come to terms. I offer you half.”
Clubin crossed his arms, still showing the barrels of his revolver.
“Rantaine, what do you take me for? I am an honest man.”
And he added after a pause: