Goodness alone knows how. It seemed to me he was as handy on no legs as some people upon two. His daughter followed.
I had been turning matters over in my mind coming along. There had never been such a thing as a passenger known on The Flying Scud. At that moment there was a vacant two-berth cabin suited to people who might not be over and above particular. The Great Joss and his friend Luke should have it. The Great Joss’ daughter should have Luke’s quarters.
When Luke appeared he professed himself agreeable. Indeed, too agreeable. There was an eagerness about the way in which he snatched at my suggestion which made me thoughtful even in that first moment. It was against nature that a man should be half beside himself with delight at the prospect of being berthed with such a monster. As I eyed Luke, noting the satisfaction which he was unable to conceal, I wondered what was at the back of it.
However, so things were settled. Mr. Batters and the first mate were placed together. Miss Batters had the first mate’s quarters.
When I got on deck again land was out of sight: I was disposed for solitude and a quiet think. But I wasn’t to have them. I soon became conscious that Isaac Rudd was taking peeps at me. He kept coming up out of the engine room, an oily rag his hand, and a sort of air about him as if he wondered when I proposed to speak to him. At last I took the hint.
“Well, Mr. Rudd, what is it?”
He came up, wiping his paws with his oily rag. His manner was sententious.
“I thought, sir, that you might have something which you wished to say to me.”
“About what?”
“This little game.”
“What little game?”
