When Captain Scraggs had "beaten it," Gibney and McGuffey
exchanged expressive glances. "He's runnin' out on us," McGuffey
complained.

"Even so, Bart, even so. Therefore, the thing for us to do is to
run out on him. In other words, we'll work a month, save our
money, an' then, without a word o' complaint or argyment, we'll
walk out."

"Oh, I ain't exactly broke, Gib. I got eighty-five dollars."

"Then," quoth Gibney decisively, "we'll go on strike to-night.
Scraggsy'll be stuck in port a week before he can get another
engineer an' another navigatin' officer, me an' you bein' the
only two natural-born fools in San Francisco an' ports adjacent,
an' before three days have passed he'll be huntin' us up to
compromise."

"I don't want no compromise. What I want is a new boiler."

"You'll git it. We'll make him order the paint an' the boiler an'
pay for both in advance before we'll agree to go back to work."

The engineer nodded his approval and after sealing their pact
with a hearty handshake, they turned to and commenced discharging
the _Maggie_. When Captain Scraggs returned to the little steamer
shortly after five o'clock, to his great amazement, he discovered
Mr. Gibney and McGuffey dressed in their other suits--including
celluloid collars and cuffs.