nd to them, her face
transfigured with joy._) Ah, now I must go upon deck and look at
it, David.

KEENEY (_frowning_). Best not to-day, Annie. Best wait for a day
when the sun shines.

MRS. KEENEY (_desperately_). But the sun never shines in this
terrible place.

KEENEY (_a tone of command in his voice_). Best not to-day, Annie.

MRS. KEENEY (_crumbling before this command--abjectly_). Very well,
David.

(_She stands there staring straight before her as if in a daze.
The two men look at her uneasily._)

KEENEY (_sharply_). Annie!

MRS. KEENEY (_dully_). Yes, David.

KEENEY. Me and Mr. Slocum has business to talk about--ship's
business.

MRS. KEENEY. Very well, David.

(_She goes slowly out, rear, and leaves the door three quarters
shut behind her._)

KEENEY. Best not have her on deck if they's goin' to be any
trouble.

MATE. Yes, sir.

KEENEY. And trouble they's goin' to be. I feel it in my bones.

(_Takes a revolver from the pocket of his coat and examines it._)

Got yourn?

MATE. Yes, sir.

KEENEY. Not that we'll have to use 'em--not if I know their breed
of dog--jest to frighten 'em up a bit. (_Grimly_) I ain't never
been forced to use one yit; and trouble I've had by land and by
sea's long as I kin remember, and will have till my dyin' day, I
reckon.

MATE (_hesitatingly_). Then you ain't goin'--to turn back?

KEENEY. Turn back! Mr. Slocum, did you ever hear o' me pointin'
s'uth for home with only a measly four hundred barrel of ile in
the hold?

MATE (_hastily_). No, sir--but the grub's gittin' low.

KEENEY. They's enough to last a long time yit, if they're careful
with it; and they's plenty o' water.

MATE. They say it's not fit to eat--what's left; and the two
years they signed on fur is up to-day. They might make trouble
for you in the courts when we git home.

KEENEY. To hell with 'em! Let them make what law trouble they
kin. I don't give a damn 'bout the money. I've got to git the
ile! (_Glancing sharply at the_ MATE) You ain't turnin' no damned
sea lawyer, be you, Mr. Slocum?

MATE (_flushing_). Not by a hell of a sight, sir.

KEENEY. What do the fools want to go home fur now? Their share o'
the four hundred barrel wouldn't keep 'em in chewin' terbacco.

MATE (_slowly_). They wants to git back to their folks an' things,
I s'pose.

KEENEY (_looking at him searchingly_). 'N' you want to turn back,
too. (THE MATE _looks down confusedly before his sharp gaze._)
Don't lie,