direction. And what I don't see I can't stop, can I? Besides, I hope he
beats that pump-man to a jelly."

"Why, what's wrong with him?"

"Wrong? He's dangerous."

"Dangerous?"

"Dangerous, yes. Why, look at the mop of hair and the eyes of him. He's
one of those trouble-hunters, that chap. And if troubles don't turn up
naturally, he'll go out and dig them up. He's like one of those kind I
read about once--used to live a thousand years ago. All he needs is a
horse seventeen hands high, and a wash-boiler on his chest, and a tin
kettle on his head, and one of those long lances, and he'd go tilting
about the country like that Don Quick-sote--"

"Don what?"

"Quick-sote--Quick-sote. That crazy Spaniard who went butting up against
windmills in that book of yours you leave around the cabin. A good name
for him--Don John Quick-sote--running around buttin' into things he
can't straighten out."

"He could do all that and yet be the best kind of a man. And the
bosun--why, before I ever heard the name of this ship, I'd heard of her
bosun. He's a notorious brute."

"He's the kind of a brute I want to have around. He will do what I order
him."