"And when you put those boats back see to it that every line is free and
coiled and every cover loose. It costs a lot of good money if you kill
off passengers in these days." Then he hurried away. "I'll see you
before sailing-time," he informed Captain Mayo.
The new skipper was glad to be alone and to have leisure for study of
the steamer's log-books. He had been accustomed to a freighter's
slower time on the courses. He did a little figuring. He found that at
seventy-five revolutions per minute the Montana would log off about
the same speed that the freighter made when doing her best. He resolved
to make the fog an excuse and slow down to the Nequasset's familiar
rate of progress. He reflected that he would feel pretty much at home
under those circumstances. He was heartened, and went about the ship
looking less like a malefactor doomed to execution.
When General-Manager Fogg, bustled on board a few minutes prior to the
advertised sailing-time at five o'clock, he commented on Captain Mayo's
improved demeanor.
"Getting one of the best jobs on this coast seemed to make considerable
of a mourner out of you. Perhaps a mirror has shown you how well you
look in that new uniform. At any rate, I'm glad to see you have chirked
up. And now I'll give you a piece of news that ought to make you look
still happier: I'm going along on this trip with you. If you show me
that you can do a good job in this kind of weather you needn't worry
about your position."
The expression on Captain Mayo's face did not indicate unalloyed delight
when he heard this "good news." Unaccustomed as he was to the ship, he
could not hope to make a smooth showing.
"And still you refuse to cheer up!" remonstrated the manager.
"I am glad you are going along, sir. Don't misunderstand me. But a
sailor is a pretty serious chap when he feels responsibility. I'm
undertaking a big stunt."
"It's the best way to find out whether you're the man for the
job--whether you're the man I think you are. It's a test that beats
sailing ships on a puddle."
"I'm glad you're aboard," repeated the captain. "It's going to shade
down my responsibility just a little."
"It is, is it?" cried Manager Fogg, his tones sharp. "Not by a blamed
sight! You're the captain of this craft. I'm a passenger. Don't try to
shirk. You aren't afraid, are you?"