Eh, Harrigan ?" "Quite," said Harrigan, and his glance acknowledged the state of war.
"Then if you'll go forward, Harrigan," said the captain, and his voice was dry and dead as his skin--"if you'll go forward and report to the bos'n, he'll see that you have a bunk." "Thank you, sir," murmured Harrigan, and slipped from the room on his bare feet.
"That man," stated Henshaw, "is as strong as you are, McTee, and yet they call you the huskiest sailor of the South Seas." "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 shipwreck 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.