But Kettle refused to be drawn into friendliness.  He coldly commented that luck and not skill was at the bottom of these matters, and that if the bar had shifted, he himself could have put this steamer on the ground as handily as the other man had piled up the branch-boat.  He refused to come below and have a drink, saying that his place was on the bridge till he learned from observation that either of the two mates was a man to be trusted.  And, finally, he inquired, with acid formality, as to whether his employers wished the steamer brought to an anchor in the roads, or whether they would condescend to give him a course to steer.

Sheriff bade him curtly enough to “keep her going to the s’uth’ard,” and then drew away his partner into the stifling little chart-house.  “Now,” he said, “you see how it is.  Our little admiral up there is standing on his temper, and if he doesn’t hear the plan of campaign, he’s quite equal to making himself nasty.”

“I don’t mind telling him some, but I’m hanged if I’m going to tell him all.  There are too many in the secret already, what with you and the two in London; and as I keep on telling you, if one whiff of a suspicion gets abroad, the whole thing’s busted, and a trap will be set that you and I will be caught in for a certainty.”

“Poof!  We’re at sea now, and no one can gossip beyond the walls of the ship.  Besides Kettle is far too staunch to talk.  He’s the sort of man who can be as mum as the grave when he chooses.  But if you persist in refusing to trust him, well, I tell you that the thought of what he may be up to makes me frightened.”

“Now look here, my boy,” said White, “you force me to remind you that I’m senior partner here, and to repeat that what I say on this matter’s going to be done.  I flatly refuse to trust this Kettle with the whole yarn.  We’ve hired him at an exorbitant fee—­bought him body and soul, in fact, as I’ve no doubt he very well understands—­and to my mind he’s engaged to do exactly as he’s told, without asking questions.  But as you seem set on it, I’ll meet you here; he may be told a bit.  Fetch him down.”

But as Kettle refused to come below, on the chilly plea of business, the partner went out under the awnings of the upper bridge, where the handsome White, with boisterous, open-hearted friendliness, did his best to hustle the little sailor into quick good humor.

“Don’t blame me, Skipper, or Sheriff here either, for the matter of that, for making all this mystery.  We’re just a couple of paid agents, and the bigger men at the back insisted that we should keep our mouths shut till the right time.  There’s nothing wrong with this caution, I’m sure you’ll be the first to say.  You see they couldn’t tell from that distance what sort of man we should be able to pick up at Lagos.  I guess they never so much as dreamed that we’d have the luck to persuade a chap like you to join.”

“You are very polite, sir,” said Kettle formally.