“Indeed,” said Westerham, who was still smiling at Crow.
“Yes,” Crow went on, “you have saved us a great deal of trouble. You are a cool hand, Mr. Robinson, but we are just as cool. This spot was not chosen for its beauty; it was chosen for its advantages.”
At this some of the men laughed coarsely, while several of them swore.
“Melun's kid-glove business is all very well in its way. It has made a bit of money in its time, but it seems to us—we were just discussing the matter to-night—that we can do pretty well without the captain and his swells up West.
“It is a long time since his nice West End pals brought any grist to our mill, and we don't propose to go on like this for ever.
“What brought matters to a head was your arrival. We can stand a good deal, and we can wait a good deal. We are financed now and again by men whom we never set eyes on, and, according to Melun, we pay them a pretty rate of interest for our share of the work, but that is neither here nor there. What we do object to—and what you will find we object to to the extent of putting an end to it—is the importation of Yankee swankers from the States.”
Westerham raised a protesting hand, but Crow did not heed him.
“Oh, it is no use your objecting,” he said; “we can read you like a book. Things have been worse ever since your arrival. Melun has practically never been near us so that we have been left to our own resources. Well, we don't mind that; but we will see that the resources are such as we like.”
He laughed a jarring laugh.