"Get out of my way!"
The other had a slight start, the impulse of suppressed indignation perhaps, but held his ground. Massy's downward glance wandered right and left, as though the deck all round Sterne had been bestrewn with eggs that must not be broken, and he had looked irritably for places where he could set his feet in flight. In the end he too did not move, though there was plenty of room to pass on.
"I heard you say up there," went on the mate--"and a very just remark it was too--that there's always something wrong. . . ."
"Eavesdropping is what's wrong with you, Mr. Sterne."
"Now, if you would only listen to me for a moment, Mr. Massy, sir, I could . . ."
"You are a sneak," interrupted Massy in a great hurry, and even managed to get so far as to repeat, "a common sneak," before the mate had broken in argumentatively--
"Now, sir, what is it you want? You want . . ."
"I want--I want," stammered Massy, infuriated and astonished--"I want. How do you know that I want anything? How dare you? . . . What do you mean? . . . What are you after--you . . ."
"Promotion." Sterne silenced him with a sort of candid bravado. The engineer's round soft cheeks quivered still, but he said quietly enough--
"You are only worrying my head off," and Sterne met him with a confident little smile.
"A chap in business I know (well up in the world he is now) used to tell me that this was the proper way. 'Always push on to the front,' he would
