There could be room for no hesitancy or dispute--it was just a
sailor-like way of doing one's duty, in the simple faith that the
recording angel would enter up the log.
The long wait in the darkness would have broken many a man's nerve, but
Courtenay was not cast in a mold to be either bent or broken by fear.
When his cigar was not in his mouth he whistled, he hummed snatches of
songs, and delivered short lectures to Joey on the absurdity of things in
general, and the special ridiculousness of such a mighty combination of
circumstances centering on one poor ship as had fore-gathered to crush
the _Kansas_. Ever since he was aroused from sleep by the stopping of
the screw, his mind had dwelt on the unprecedented nature of the
break-down. Even before he discovered its cause he was wondering what
evil chance bad contrived to cripple the engine at such a moment--in the
worst possible place on the map.
"Joey!" he said suddenly, his thoughts reverting to a chance remark made
to him in Valparaiso by Isobel's father, "what did Mr. Baring mean by
saying there was a difficulty about the insurance?"
Joey gave it up, but he cocked his ears and looked towards the door.
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