"I reckon you're right, lad," agreed the old sailor, "that Greek seems to be a trouble-maker but he'll find he's got the wrong man to deal with. I've handled too many crews of tough roughnecks to be bested by a dirty furriner."
"I'll bet he will keep you busy with complaints," Walter said. "How are you going to get at the truth of it if he does complain about the others of the crew?"
"You'll see, I reckon, he will try something like that but I'm ready for him."
Sure enough, in less than an hour the Greek approached the Captain.
"I hate to trouble you, but I must complain as you have directed," he said suavely. "The cook, he is very abusive, I tried to instruct him about your meals but he answers me with vile names."
"Bring the cook aft," Captain Westfield commanded.
Manuel escorted the bewildered-looking cook aft with a look of sly triumph on his face.
The captain looked the man over appraisingly. He was a broad-shouldered, well-muscled fellow. He spoke to him briefly but the cook shook his head. He could not understand.
The old sailor picked up a rope and spread it in a big circle on the deck.
"This insulting of you has got to be stopped right off," he declared, addressing the interpreter. "Give me your knife."