"I told you I didn't want you," answered Tom Grandon, half angrily, for the foul-smelling native had come up closer, and caught him by the shoulder. "You go and look for work elsewhere."
The face of the native fell, and he muttered something under his breath in his own language. He still wanted to argue; but Grandon threw his hand off and turned him around, and then he glided away, noiselessly, like some beast of the forest.
"You'll get into trouble with those boys, Tom," laughed Captain Ponsberry, who stood near. "Consarn 'em! Give me a white man for stevedore work, every time. The wust of 'em are wuth three niggers! How are you to-day?" the last to Larry.
"Very well, sir, and ready to pitch in," was the answer. "I should have been here earlier, only I received two letters,—one from each of my brothers,—and I couldn't help stopping to read them."
"Don't blame you for that, for letters are scarce when you get away as far as this. I was looking for letters and papers myself; but Jack Dodger, who went after 'em, ain't back yet."
The captain turned to another part of the dock, and Larry followed Tom Grandon on board of the Columbia. Although he had been a sailor but a
