That crazy Spaniard who went butting up against
windmills in that book of yours you leave around the cabin. A good name
for him--Don John Quick-sote--running around buttin' into things he
can't straighten out."
"He could do all that and yet be the best kind of a man. And the
bosun--why, before I ever heard the name of this ship, I'd heard of her
bosun. He's a notorious brute."
"He's the kind of a brute I want to have around. He will do what I order
him."
"Did you order him to bring on this fight?"
"And if I did, what of it? Do I have to account to you for what I do on
my ship? That pump-man is dangerous, I tell you. Why, just before we
sailed, I was telephoning over to the office to find out how he happened
to be shipped, and a clerk--"
"The second clerk, was it?"
"What does it matter who it was? He said to watch out for him, too--that
he was the kind who knew it all. Wherever the office got him I don't
know. And if you know anybody in the office with a pull, you ought to
put it up to them, Mr. Noyes, when you go back. This pump-man, he's the
kind recognizes no authority."
"Why, I thought he was very respectful toward your officers. And he
seems to do his work on the jump, too, captain."
"He carries out orders, yes; but if he felt like it, he'd tell me to go
to hell as quick as he'd tell the bosun. I can see it in his eye.
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