"Yes," said Horble. "What's twenty tons between the two of us?"
"You don't believe in lapping your wife in luxury!" exclaimed Gregory.
"Madge and I talked it over," said Horble. "I was for trading ashore, but her heart was set on the schooner. I can make twice the money this way and please her in the bargain."
"I know she can sail a boat against anybody," said Gregory, wincing at the remark.
Horble spat in the water and said nothing. His fat, broad back said, plainer than words: "You're an intruder! Get out!"
"I believe she's aboard this very minute," said Gregory with a strange smile.
"She's ashore, I tell you," said Horble sullenly.
"I'll just run below and make sure," said Gregory.
He slipped down the little companion way, looked about the empty cabin and peered into the semi-darkness of the only stateroom.
Horble had not lied to him. There was not a soul below. But on the cabin table he saw Madge's sewing machine and a half-made dress of cotton print. She had always been fond of books, and there, in the corner, was her little bookcase, taken bodily from her old home in Nonootch. Scattered about here and there were other things that brought her memory painfully back to him; that hurt him with their familiarity; that caused him to lift them up and hold them with a sort of despairing wonder: her guitar, her worn, lock-fast desk; the old gilt photograph album he remembered so well. He sat down at the table and buried his face in his hands. What a fool he had been! What a fool he had been!
He was roused by the sound of Horble's footsteps down the ladder. With his head leaning on his hand, he looked at the big naked feet feeling for the steps, then at the uncouth clothes as they gradually appeared, then at the fat, weak, frightened face of the man himself. He grew sick at the sight of him. Would Horble strike him? Would Horble have the grit to order him off the ship? No; the infernal coward was getting out the gin--a bottle of square-face and two glasses.
Horble tipped the bottle into his own glass. A second mate's grog! One could see what the fellow drank.
"Joe Horble," said Gregory, leaning both elbows on the table, "there's something you ought to know: I love Madge, and Madge loves me!"