"Tell him to get out of bed in time," came the ungracious reply. Evidently the Venetia's third mate was under orders not to stop for any belated passenger.
"What's your errand?" asked the skipper, a little puzzled, of Aronson.
"I have a subpoena from the court," cried Aronson, all agog.
"Oh, you're a court officer."
Then he rounded his hands and holloaed up:
"A court officer aboard!"
Court officer! This made an impression. The third mate withdrew from the gunwale and presently reappeared with the captain.
"Lash her to!" cried the captain. The tug-boat hugged her great sister and a ladder was let down, upon which Aronson mounted. With the white paper in his hand he looked decidedly formidable.
"I have a subpoena for Mrs. Alice Arnold, one of your passengers. She is wanted as a witness in a murder trial. There she is," he added, for Mrs. Arnold stood in front of the crowd that had rolled like a barrel of ballast toward the center of interest. The captain was nonplused. He was not familiar enough with law terms to know the limits of a subpoena's authority. But he felt that he was to some extent the protector of his passengers.
"I don't understand this," he said, turning to Mrs. Arnold.