She was only
certain of one thing--she would like to box Boyle's ears. She was
completely at a loss to account for his persistent efforts to drag in
references to their prior conversation. She dared not catechize him.
That would be piling up more difficulties for the future. But what
possessed him to blurt out such embarrassing details in the presence of
the two men whom she most wished to remain in ignorance of them?
She peeped at Boyle sideways. His eyes were closed, the cigar was
between his teeth, and he had a broad grin on his face. She could not
guess that the once taciturn chief officer of the _Kansas_ was saying
to himself:
"My godfather, how Pills glared! There will be trouble on this ship
about a woman before long, or I'm a Dutchman. An' didn't the skipper
rise at the fly, too! Huh!"
He uttered the concluding monosyllable aloud.
"Did you speak?" inquired Elsie, severely.
"Eh? No, Miss Maxwell."
"Oh, I thought you wanted to say something."
"Not a word. Too much talking makes my back stiff."
"Your physical peculiarities are amazing, Mr. Boyle."
"Huh, it's odd how things take some people.
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