It was a performance not pleasant for any one. He felt himself culpably too full of the resentful conviction that this ferment, whose ultimate extent nobody could predict, was purely of those Hayle twins' brewing, and he knew he was speaking too much as though to them and them alone. He was the only Courteney who could do this thing so badly, yet it must be done. Still writing, he glanced up. Not a visitor had stooped to sit. He dipped his pen but rose up again. "What can I do for you, sirs?"
"We have told you," said the senator. "Send for the captain!"
"Will you please say what you want him for?"
"No, sir! We will tell him that when he comes!"
The senator glared steadily into the youth's face, and the youth, forgetting their disparity of years, glared as steadily back. The bishop blandly spoke:
"Senator, will you allow me, for an instant--? Mr. Courteney, you will admit that this steamboat is not your property?"
"She's as much mine as anybody's, sir. I am one third owner of her."
The bishop's pause was lengthy. Then--"Oh, you are! Well, however that may be, sir, your father ought to realize--and so ought you, sir--that we cannot consent to conduct an affair like this in a second-handed way."
"It really isn't second-handed, sir; but if you think it is and if you're willing to put your request in writing and will dictate it to me, here and now----"
The senator exploded: "Damn the writing!" He whirled upon the bishop: "Your pardon, sir!"
"Some one had to say it," jovially answered the bishop. Everybody laughed. Hugh dipped his pen once more.
"Shall I put that down, also?" he asked, looking to the bishop and the senator by turns.
"Put what?--down where?" they asked. "What are you writing there, anyhow?"
The senator stiffened high: "For what, sir?"
And the bishop asked, "A verbatim report to the captain?"
"Insolence!" exclaimed the general, but was hushed by the squire, though the squire's own brow lowered.
"Who will vouch for your accuracy?" loftily asked the senator.
"I'll send now for witnesses." The youth reached toward a bell-cord. But the senator lifted a hand between:
"Stop, sir. There will be nothing to witness. Nevertheless you know, of course, that this is not the end."
"When your passengers awake in the morning, your real, your cabin passengers, they will, they _shall_ awake to the deadly hazard of their situation. Gentlemen, there will be available landings beyond Prophet's Island. We shall reach Turnbull's Island by noon and Natchez Island before sundown. Meantime, sir, this mortal peril to hundreds of our best people is wholly chargeable to your captain."