"Well, what is it?" Bert Rhine demanded. "Cough it off your chest."
"It's for your own good," was my reply. "It is coming on to blow,
and all that unfurled canvas aloft will bring the yards down on your
heads. We're safe here, aft. You are the ones who will run risks,
and it is up to you to hustle your crowd aloft and make things fast
and ship-shape."
"And if we don't?" the gangster sneered.
"Why, you'll take your chances, that is all," I answered carelessly.
"I just want to call your attention to the fact that one of those
steel yards, end-on, will go through the roof of your forecastle as
if it were so much eggshell."
Bert Rhine looked to Charles Davis for verification, and the latter
nodded.
"We'll talk it over first," the gangster announced.
"And I'll give you ten minutes," I returned. "If at the end of ten
minutes you've not started taking in, it will be too late. I shall
put a bullet into any man who shows himself."
"All right, we'll talk it over."
As they started to go back, I called:
"One moment.
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