“As the only man aboard who can navigate, and owner of the ship, I’m assuming the position of cap’n! Do I hear any objections?”
The bos’n demanded: “What you mean, owner of ship?”
“Me and Harrigan matched pennies,” asserted Clanton. “My share of the ambergris against the ship. I won.”
“What about the ambergris?” demanded a hardy soul.
Clanton nodded back toward the receding beach. “Anybody that wants to swim back there and fight those boys for it, is welcome to try!”
In the self-conscious silence that followed, he barked suddenly: “All right, get to work! Tail onto those lines! There’s a breeze makin’ and we’re headin’ for the Solomons for a load of niggers for Queensland!”
As the crew jumped briskly, Raquel nudged him.
“You didn’t find that ambergris,” she said, her eyes ablaze with admiration. “That wasn’t even the right island. That was all a lie!”
“I doubt if there ever was any ambergris,” quoth he. “The fellow that made that chart was probably crazy. To hell with it!” He patted her plump hip possessively and added: “I reckon you go with the ship; that bein’ the case I want to see you down in the cap’n’s cabin, right away!”