"Because I'm no friendless seafarer. And also because--here's my card.
Read it. It's the card of your boss, the man who can hire or fire you,
or any other man or officer of this line. And I don't have to give you a
reason unless it pleases me. But I'll give a reason at the right
time--in your case. And the reason will leave you where you'll never
again set foot on the deck of any ship of this line or of a good many
other lines."

The captain had set his back to the rail and bared his teeth. Noyes,
thinking he was about to spring, braced his feet and waited. Noyes
himself was no angelic-looking creature at the moment. His jaw seemed to
shoot forward, his eyes to contract and recede.

"And so that's who you are, is it? And you'd break me?"

"Break you, yes. And perhaps put you in jail before I'm done with you.
Now will you put him in irons?"

The captain did not spring. He walked to his room instead. And he gave
out no order just then; but soon the mess-boy came out and whispered to
the first officer, and the first officer said, "Kieran, you're to return
to duty," and pocketed his irons and called off the men.

It was an hour after the fight. Kieran had had time to clean up, and
now, with the passenger, he was pacing the long gangway.

"And would you have gone over the side?" the passenger had asked.

"I guess I'd had to, wouldn't I?"