"Guess I'll go out and have a little look at the young captain," proposed
Sam Truax, an hour later.
"Try another guess," retorted Eph, curtly. "You'll stay here in the engine
room. Jack Benson isn't going to be bothered in any way."
"I'm not going to bother him; just going to take a look at him," protested
Truax, moving toward the door that separated the engine room from the
cabin.
But young Somers caught the stranger by the sleeve of the oily jumper that
Sam had donned on beginning his work.
"Do you know what folks say about me?" demanded Eph, with a significant
glare.
"What do they say?"
"Folks have an idea that, at most times, I'm one of the best-natured
fellows on earth," declared Eph, solemnly. "Yet they _do_ say that, when
I'm crossed in anything my mind's made up to, I can be tarnation ugly. I
just told you I don't want the captain disturbed. Do you know, Sam Truax,
I feel a queer notion coming over me? I've an idea that that feeling is
just plain ugliness coming to life!"
Truax came back from the door, a grin on his face. Yet, when he turned his
head away, there was a queer, almost deadly flash in the fellow's eyes.
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