"I'm weak.
You've had me in hell an' sweated me thin, McTee.

If I was my old self, I'd jump at the chance." "Then it's irons for you and ten years for mutiny when we reach port." "Ah-h, damn your heart!" "But if I beat you, you'll be a lord of men, Harrigan, with only one king over you--McTee! You'll live on the fat of the land and the plunder of the high seas if you serve McTee." "What oath could I swear that you'd believe ?" "Your hand in mind for a pledge--I ask no more." He held out his hand.

The lean, strong fingers fascinated Harrigan.
"I'd rather take your throat than your hand, McTee--an' mebbe I will--an' mebbe I will!" He caught the hand in his own cracked, stained, black palm.

The smile of McTee was like the smile of Satan when he watched Adam driven from the Eden.
"Strip to the waist," he said, and turned on the crew.
"You know me, lads.

I've tried to break Harrigan, but I've only bent him, and now he's going to stand up to me man to man, and if he wins, he's free to do as he likes and never lift a hand till we reach port.
Aye, lick your chops, you dogs.