"You will laugh when you see," said Cad Sills, wrung with pain, but
returning to him on the instant.
"On the wrong side of my face, maybe."
"Can't you see? It's the little harbor master."
"Ah! and standing in the same piece of dark with you, my girl."
Cad Sills laughed wildly. "Did ever I look for more thanks than this
from any mortal man? Then I'm not disappointed. But let me ask you, have
you taken your ship inside the island to catch the tide?"
"Yes."
"Oh, you have. And would you have done that with the harbor master
looking on? Hauled short across the harbor lines? Maybe you think I
have a whole chest of pearls at your beck and call, Sam Dreed. Oh, what
vexation! Here I hold the little man blindfolded by my wiles--and this
is my thanks!"
The voice was tearful with self-pity.
"Is that so, my puss?" roared the seaman, melted in a flash. He swung
the girl by the waist with his free arm. "You _have_ got just enough
natural impudence for the tall water and no mistake. Come along."
"Wait!" cried Jethro Rackby. He stepped forward. He felt the first of
many wild pangs in thus subjecting himself to last insult. "Where are
you going?"
The words had the pitiful vacuity of a detaining question. For what
should it matter to Jethro where she went, if she went in company with
Sam Dreed?
"How can I tell you that, little man?" Cad Sills flung over her shoulder
at him.
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