was a master with a couple of hundred or so to take an interest in the
ship on proper conditions. You don't discharge a man for no fault, only
because of the fun of telling him to pack up his traps and go ashore,
when you know that in that case you are bound to buy back his share. On
the other hand, a fellow with an interest in the ship is not likely to
throw up his job in a huff about a trifle. He had told Massy that. He
had said: "'This won't do, Mr. Massy. We are getting very sick of you
here in the Marine Office. What you must do now is to try whether you
could get a sailor to join you as partner. That seems to be the only
way.' And that was sound advice, Harry."

Captain Whalley, leaning on his stick, was perfectly still all over, and
his hand, arrested in the act of stroking, grasped his whole beard. And
what did the fellow say to that?

The fellow had the audacity to fly out at the Master-Attendant. He had
received the advice in a most impudent manner. "I didn't come here to
be laughed at," he had shrieked. "I appeal to you as an Englishman and a
shipowner brought to the verge of ruin by an illegal conspiracy of your
beggarly sailors, and all you condescend to do for me is to tell me to
go and get a partner!" . . . The fellow had presumed to stamp with rage
on the floor of the private office. Where was he going to get a partner?
Was he being taken for a fool? Not a single one of that contemptible lot
ashore at the "Home" had twopence in his pocket to bless himself with.
The very native curs in the bazaar knew that much. . . . "And it's true
enough, Harry," rumbled Captain Eliott judicially. "They are much more
likely one and all to owe money to the Chinamen in Denham Road for the
clothes on their backs. 'Well,' said I, 'you make too much noise over it
for my taste, Mr. Massy. Good morning.' He banged the door after him; he
dared to bang my door, confound his cheek!"