Ten minutes later Satan and Ratcliffe boarded the Juan. Cleary was already on board, down in the cabin with the others; Cark and a bottle of gin were presiding at one end of the table. Satan, with a nod to the company, came to the table and took his seat; motioning Ratcliffe to take the seat opposite to him.

It was like a meeting of a board of directors, and the table just held the six comfortably.

What followed struck the unaccustomed Ratcliffe with astonishment,—the amiability of it,—it might have been a card party, with Satan the loser—momentarily.

“Well, gentlemen,” said Satan, “what’s to pay?”

There were extra glasses on the table and a box of cigars. The cigars were pushed along by Sellers as he spoke.

“There’s Cark’s loss of time,” said Sellers, “not to say mine and Cleary’s. We tried for you round Rum Cay when you gave us the slip, and then there was the run down here. A thousand dollars to us that means, and five hundred to Cleary.”

“Makin’ it two thousand five hundred and forty,” said Satan. “I’m agreeable—and the derelic’ is mine.” “Which derelic’?” asked Sellers innocently.

Satan, absolutely disdaining to reply, lit a cigar.

“She’s worth all ten thousand dollars,” said he, “and what’s the salvage on that?”

“Y’mean that old dismasted catboat stuck on the sand there?” said Cleary. “Not worth five—b’sides she’s our meat.”

Satan dropped Sellers and turned to Carquinez. “You’ll maybe explain,” said he. “You know the rights of the law. If you try to collar that hooker, I’ll come in with first claim, and here’s a gentleman will back me in law expenses. You know him,—Mr. Ratcliffe, Holt & Ratcliffe.”

“I’ll back you,” said Ratcliffe.

“And it seems to me law is not your lay, Cark,” went on Satan. “We came in here yesterday and boarded and claimed that hooker, and I was fixing the tackle for towing when you blew along. The thing’s as clear as paint. She’s ours for salvage, and you’re not in it.”

“Look here!” began Sellers violently—then he closed up: Cark had given him a kick under the table. Then there was silence for a moment, during which these two scoundrels seemed to brood together telepathically.

Then Cark spoke, addressing Satan.

“Will you take the air on deck for wan moment with your friend?” said Cark.

“Sure,” said Satan.

A few minutes later they were called down again.

“See here,” said Sellers, acting as spokesman for the others, “we don’t want to bear hard on you, but we’ve been at a big loss over this business.”

“And who let you in for it?” asked Satan. “Haven’t you been chasin’ me since last fall over the Nombre? Was it my fault she weren’t there?”

“Well, anyhow we’re losers. But I’m coming to the derelic’. You’ll never be able to do the tow with the Sarah—why, the Sarah ain’t bigger than her, and you’re underhanded anyhow.”

“That’s so,” said Satan.

“Well, what I propose is this,” said Sellers. “We’ll drop claims for the run down here and only ask a thousand and forty of you, and you drop claims on the derelic’.”

Satan laughed.

“Maybe you don’t know she’s got an auxiliary in her worth four thousand dollars if it’s worth a cent. She’s broke her propeller, but she’s got a spare one on board, and if I knew anythin’ of injins I’d drive her back on her own power. No, I sticks to the derelic’ if that’s the best you can offer and here’s your dollars—though I’ll have to give you my check for the extra money.”

He produced a bundle; then, with his hand on it:

“If you choose to take the derelic’ for what she’s worth and call it quits. I’ll trade, one or the other. I’m not set on that tow. But there you are; you know the chances.”

“I’ll tak!” suddenly broke in Carquinez, and the business was ended.