The two captains looked at the two wallets, and then at each other. The
next moment their attention was fully taken up by another matter. Their
crew of fifteen men came marching aft and lined up forward of the house.
A spokesman stepped out.
"Excuse us, captings, for meddling into something that p'raps ain't
none of our business. We ain't meaning to peek nor pry, but some of
us couldn't help overhearing. We've cleaned out our pockets. Here it
is--three hundred and sixty-eight dollars and thirty-seven cents. Will
you let me step onto the quarter-deck and lay it down 'side of them
wallets?" He accepted their amazed silence as consent, and made his
deposit solemnly.
"But this is all a gamble, and a mighty uncertain one," protested Mayo.
"We 'ain't never had no chance to be sports before in all our lives,"
pleaded the man. "We wouldn't have had that money if you two heroes
hadn't give us the chance you have. We wa'n't more'n half men before.
Now we can hold up our heads. You'll make us feel mighty mean, as if we
wasn't fit to be along with you, if you won't let us in."
"You bet you can come in, boys!" shouted Captain Candage. "I know how
you feel."
"And another thing," went on the spokesman. "We 'ain't had much time to
talk this over; we rushed aft here as soon as we heard and had cleaned
out our pockets. But we've said enough to each other so that we can
tell you that all of us will turn to on that wreck with you and work for
nothing till--till--well, whatever happens. Don't want wages! Don't need
promises! And if she sinks, we'll sing a song and go back to fishing
again."
The man at the wheel let go the spokes and came forward and deposited
a handful of money beside the rest. "There's mine. I wisht it was a
million; it would go just as free."
"Boys, I'd make a speech to you--but my throat is too full," choked
Mayo. "I know better, now, why something called me over to Hue and
Cry last summer. Hard over with that wheel! Jockey her down toward the
wreck!"
When they were within hailing distance of the lighter Mayo raised his
megaphone. "Will you take fifteen hundred dollars--cash--now--for that
wreck, as you leave her when you've loaded those lighters?" he shouted.
There was a long period of silence. Then the man in the fur coat
replied, through his hollowed hands: "Yes--and blast the fools in Boston
who are making me sell!"