"Why didn't you come up and stand by me?" inquired the girl hotly.
The mate hung his head.
"Oh," said the girl, and her tones were those of acute disappointment,
"you're afraid."
"I'm not," said the mate scornfully.
"Why didn't you come up, then, instead of skulking down here?" inquired
the girl.
"The mate scratched the back of his neck and smiled, but weakly. "Well,
I--I thought"--he began, and stopped.
"You thought"--prompted Miss Cringle coldly.
"I thought a little fright would do you good," said the mate, speaking
quickly, "and that it would make you appreciate me a little more when I
did come."
"Ahoy! MAGGIE! MAGGIE!" came the voice of the graceless varlet who was
steering.
"I'll MAGGIE him," said the mate, grinding his teeth, "Why, what the--
why you 're crying."
"I'm not," sobbed Miss Cringle scornfully. "I'm in a temper, that's
all."
"I'll knock his head off," said the mate; "you stay down here."
"Mag-GIE!" came the voice again, "MAG--HULLO!"
"Were you calling me, my lad?" said the mate, with dangerous politeness,
as he stepped aft. "Ain't you afraid of straining that sweet voice o'
yours? Leave go o' that tiller."
The other let go, and the mate's fist took him heavily in the face and
sent him sprawling on the deck.
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