“Oh, that doesn’t make any difference, Don,” returned Caleb sarcastically. “It would be just like him (if he wanted to) to send the vessel out with every blessed one of the crew landlubbers. It don’t make a particle o’ difference.”
“Now, Caleb,” said the merchant deprecatingly.
“No, Adoniram, we can’t do it. The boy knows nothing at all about a steamship, and I know but little more.”
“You’ve been mate on a steamer, Caleb.”
“On a dredger, you mean,” returned the old sailor, in disgust.
“There’s no reason why you can’t do it—both of you,” the ship owner declared. “If I’m satisfied, you ought to be. I’ve already engaged Lawrence Coffin for mate.”
“Coffin!” ejaculated Caleb, his face lighting up, as he forgot to pull on his pipe in his interest. “Got him, eh? Well, that puts a different complexion on the matter. I could sail the Great Eastern with Lawrence Coffin for mate.”
“I thought so,” said Mr. Pepper, laughing gleefully. “Then I’ve got a man by the name of Bolin for third. He’s a good man, and knows his business, too.”
“That would make Don’s duties pretty light,” said Caleb reflectively.
“Of course. I shall put in rather a larger crew than a whaleback usually carries—fourteen at least,” Mr. Pepper added; “to handle the cargoes I shall expect the steamer to recover.”