Part 17 (2/2)
”He is almost as strong,” answered McTee with a certain emphasis.
Something like a smile appeared in the eyes of Henshaw, but did not disturb the fixed lines of his mouth. For a moment Henshaw and McTee measured each other.
The Scotchman spoke first: ”Captain, you're as keen as the stories they tell of you.”
”And you're as hard, McTee.”
The latter waved the somewhat dubious compliment away.
”I was breaking that fellow, and he held out longer than any man I've ever handled. The s.h.i.+pwreck interrupted me, or I would have finished what I started.”
”You'd like to have me finish what you began?”
”You read my mind.”
”Discipline is a great thing.”
”Absolutely necessary at sea.”
Henshaw answered coldly: ”There's no need for us to act the hypocrite, eh?”
McTee hesitated, and then grinned: ”Not a bit. I know what you did twenty years ago in the Solomons.”
”And I know the story of you and the pearl divers.”
”That's enough.”
”Quite.”
”And Harrigan?”
”As a favor to you, McTee, I'll break him. Maybe you'll be interested in my methods.”
”Try mine first. I made him scrub down the bridge with suds every morning, and while his hands were puffed and soft, I sent him down to the fireroom to pa.s.s coal.”
”He'll kill you someday.”
”If he can.”
They smiled strangely at each other.
A knock came at the door, and Salvain entered, radiant.
”She is divine!” he cried. ”Her hair is old copper with golden lights.
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