"What do you think of that?" he asked, briefly.
Walter and the captain bent their heads over the almost illegible scrawl.
Walter looked up from the paper, his face flushed with anger. "It's an outrage!" he cried. "Why I'd die first."
"Read it to me, Walt," requested the Captain. "I can't make out that writing."
Walter obeyed.
"Strangers,
"We-alls don't allow no niggers around hyar. Get rid of that little nigger you've got with you or it will be worse for him and worse for you.
"The White Caps."
The old sailor fairly exploded with wrath as he listened. "By the keel of the Flying Dutchman," he shouted, "that little darkey is better than a shipload of thieving fishermen. I just wish I had my hands on the fellow that dared write that thing."
"Poor little Chris," Walter exclaimed. "He is as noble a little fellow as ever lived. His skin may be black but he's white, clean white, inside. Think of the times he's risked his life for us and how good, honest and uncomplaining he has always been. Get rid of Chris, never!"