The miner
nearest him tugged vigorously at a revolver which had jammed in its
shiny leather holster, while his brother argonauts, laughing, waited
the outcome. But the canoe was under way again, and the Indian
helmsman drove the point of his paddle into the boatman's chest and
hurled him backward into the bottom of the Whitehall.
When the flood of oaths and blasphemy was at full tide, and violent
assault and quick death seemed most imminent, the first officer had
stolen a glance at the girl by his side. He had expected to find a
shocked and frightened maiden countenance, and was not at all prepared
for the flushed and deeply interested face which met his eyes.
"I am sorry," he began.
But she broke in, as though annoyed by the interruption, "No, no; not
at all. I am enjoying it every bit. Though I am glad that man's
revolver stuck. If it had not--"
"We might have been delayed in getting ashore." The first officer
laughed, and therein displayed his tact.
"That man is a robber," he went on, indicating the boatman, who had now
shoved his oars into the water and was pulling alongside. "He agreed
to charge only twenty dollars for putting you ashore. Said he'd have
made it twenty-five had it been a man. He's a pirate, mark me, and he
will surely hang some day. Twenty dollars for a half-hour's work!
Think of it!"
"Easy, sport! Easy!" cautioned the fellow in question, at the same
time making an awkward landing and dropping one of his oars over-side.
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