"Stand ready, all of you.

Steward, you jump aboard first and I'll pass the chronometer to you." Nishikanta bellicosely shouldered his vast bulk up to the captain, opened his shirt, and exposed his revolver.
"There's too many for the boat," he said, "and the steward's one of 'em that don't go along.

Get that.

Hold it in your head.

The steward's one of 'em that don't go along." Captain Doane coolly surveyed the big automatic, while at the fore of his consciousness burned a vision of his flat buildings in San Francisco.
He shrugged his shoulders.