"Sailing--mostly."

"Ho, ho, ho! of course, I might have known it! Sailing--_mostly_. Why,
certainly you sail! And why do you carry a pistol on one side of you and
a knife on the other, Nat?"

"Troublous times, Dad. Some of the fisher-folk along the Northern End
aren't very scrupulous. They took a cargo of canned stuffs from me a
year back."

"And what use do you make of the four-pounder that's wrapped up in
tarpaulin under your deck, Nat? And what in the world are you going to
do with five barrels of gunpowder?"

"How in blazes--" began Captain Plum.

"O, to be sure, to be sure--they're for the fisher-folk," interrupted
Obadiah Price. "Blow 'em up, eh, Nat? And you seem to be a young man of
education, Nat. How did you happen to make a mistake in your count?
Haven't you twelve men aboard your sloop instead of eight, Nat? Aren't
there twelve, instead of eight? Eh, Nat?"

"The devil take you!" cried Captain Plum, leaping suddenly to his feet,
his face flaming red. "Yes, I have got twelve men and I've got a gun in
tarpaulin and I've got five barrels of gunpowder! But how in the name of
Kingdom-Come did you find it out?"

Obadiah Price came around the end of the table and stood so close to
Captain Plum that a person ten feet away could not have heard him when
he spoke.