It was on a Tuesday morning that they started. Blood came on board at six, and found the majority of the crew already assembled under Harman. They had come on board the night before, and, to use his own expression, they were the roughest, toughest crowd he had ever seen collected on one deck.

He was just the man to handle them, and his first act was to boot a fellow off the bridge steps where he had taken his perch, pipe in mouth, and send him flying down the alleyway forward. Then, following him, he began to talk to the hands, sending them flying this way and that, some to clean brasswork and others to clear the raffle off the decks.

Down below, the boilers were beginning to rumble, and now appeared at the engine-room hatch a new figure, with the air of a Scotch terrier poking up its head to have a look round.

It was MacBean, the chief, second, third, and fourth engineer in one.

MacBean had the honest look of a Dandie Dinmont, and something of the facial expression. He was an efficient engineer; he was on board the Penguin because he could not get another job, and that fact was not a certificate of character. There was scarcely a soul on board the Penguin, indeed, with the exception of Shiner, who would not have been somewhere else but for circumstances over which they had no control.

The Captain gave MacBean good morning, had a moment’s talk with him, and then went aft to see how things were going there.

He found that a steward had been installed, and that he was in the act of laying breakfast things at one end of the breakfast table.

The Captain sent him up for his gear which was on deck, ordered him to place it in the cabin which he had selected, and then proceeded to change from the serge suit which he wore into an old uniform dating from his last command in the Black Bird line.

As he was finishing his toilet, he heard Shiner’s voice, and when he came out of his cabin he found Shiner and Harman seated at table and the steward serving breakfast.

Shiner had gotten himself up for the sea. He looked as though he were off for some cheap trip with a brass band in attendance. Very few people can bear yachting rig, especially when it is brand-new; and brass buttons with anchors on them are as trying to a man’s gentility as mauve to a woman’s complexion.

The Captain gave the others good morning. Two things gratified him: the sight of the good breakfast spread upon the table, and the fact that the chair at the head of the table was vacant and evidently reserved for him.

He was about to take his seat when Shiner stopped him.

“Excuse me,” said he, “but that is Mr. Wolff’s place.”

“Mr. Wolff’s place?” said Blood. “And who the deuce is Mr. Wolff?”

“Our senior partner,” said Shiner. “I’m expecting him every minute.”

Then it was that the Captain noticed a cover laid beside Harman and evidently intended for him.

The temper of the man was not intended by nature to take calmly an incident like this.

The steward was listening, too.

“I’ll give you to understand right away and here, now,” said he, “that I’m the skipper of this tub, and that this is my place at the table. It’s as well to begin as we intend to go on. Steward, look alive there with the coffee.”

He took his seat at the head of the table, helped himself to eggs and bacon, and turned his conversation on Harman. Shiner flushed, hesitated, lost his balance, and subsided into his coffee cup. The Captain at a stroke had taken his position among the after guard. Wolff might own the ship, and Shiner, too, it did not matter in the least. The Captain was boss, and would remain so.

In a moment, when he had finished saying what he had to say to Harman, he turned to the other.

“Of course,” said he, “I can’t stop you bringing all the supercargoes you like on board——” He stopped, told the steward to clear out of the saloon, and then, when the man had disappeared, went on: “Considering I’ve let myself in for this thing with my eyes shut, I’ve no right to complain if you brought bears on board, to say nothing of wolves; but I’d have taken it kinder if you had let me know right off at the beginning that the whole firm was going on the cruise.”

“Look here, Captain,” said Shiner, “you have spoken truth without knowing it. Wolff is the whole firm practically. He’s the boss of this business, to all intents and purposes; he’s the money behind it all, and the brain, and he did not want to advertise the fact that he was coming on board, I suppose, for he is a man pretty well known in the States. Anyhow, there are the facts. Wolff is a man that I don’t mind playing second fiddle to; and if I don’t mind, I don’t see why you should.”

“Oh, don’t you?” said the Captain. “Well, I do. I’m captain of this tub, and captain I’ll remain. I’m risking enough for a hundred dollars a month and a bonus of a thousand if this piracy, whatever it is, of yours, comes off, without losing my status quo as well.”

“What’s that?” asked the illiterate Harman, who had laid down the knife with which he had been eating so as to attend better to the dispute.

“It’s what you’ll never have—the position of a master mariner and the top seat at the table.”

“What do you mean by that word ‘piracy’?” asked Shiner, with the air of a woman whose reputation is attacked. “There is no such thing in this business, and it would be a lot better for you to be more careful with your words. Words are dangerous weapons when flung about like that.”

“Well,” said the Captain, “call it what you like. I don’t know what it is, but I’ve signed on, and I’m not the man to go back on my word; but, as I just said, I don’t know what we are after, and I don’t much care, as long as we steer clear of the gallows.”

“Don’t be talking like that,” said Harman. “Mr. Shiner, here, ain’t such a fool as to go within smellin’ distance of any hanging matter. What we are after may be a bit off colour, but it’s a business venture in the main. I’ve asked no questions, but Mr. Shiner has given me to understand that it was business he was after, not anything that would lay us by the heels, so to speak, in any killing matter.”

“What we are after is perfectly plain,” said Shiner. “Killing! Who talked of killing? This is, just as you say, a business matter, and it’s no worse than what’s being done in Frisco every day, only it’s a bit more adventurous.”

The precious trio finished their breakfast without any more words, and then went on deck. They had scarcely reached it when across the gangplank came a stout, black-bearded individual followed by a couple of wharf rats, one bearing luggage, the other two big cases.

This was Wolff.

Shiner introduced him to the Captain, and then Wolff, followed by the luggage and the cases, disappeared below.

“He’s not a good sailor,” said Shiner, “but he’ll be all right after a day or two. Ah, here come the port authorities. I’ll have a talk with them. You are all right for starting, I suppose?”

“Yes,” said the Captain. “I’m ready to cast off when you are.”

“Right!” said Shiner.

He took the port officers down to the saloon, and when they came up again they were all smoking half-dollar perfectos and the traces of conviviality and good-fellowship were evident.

“They’ve been having drinks,” said Harman to himself. “Wouldn’t wonder if there was lush in those cases Wolff brought aboard. No tellin’.”