“After all I said to ’em,” said the skipper with weary dignity. “You ’eard what I said to them Jack?”
“Nobody could ha’ swore louder,” testified the mate.
“An’ here they are,” said the skipper, “defying of me. After all I said to ’em. After all the threats I—I employed.”
“Employed,” repeated the mate with relish.
“They’ve been and gone and asked them females down the foc’sle again. You know what I said I’d do, Jack, if they did.”
“Said you’d eat ’em without salt,” quoted the other helpfully.
“I’ll do worse than that, Jack,” said the skipper after a moment’s discomfiture. “What’s to hinder us casting off quietly and taking them along with us?
“If you ask me,” said the mate, “I should think you couldn’t please the crew better.”
“Well, we’ll see,” said the other, nodding sagaciously, “don’t make no noise, Jack.”
He set an example of silence himself, and aided by the mate, cast off the warps which held his unconscious visitors to their native town, and the wind being off the shore the little schooner drifted silently away from the quay.