"A rose by any other name'd be just as sweet," Mr. Gibney quoted. "You poor, misguided simp. If you ever see that three hundred dollars again you'll be a lot older'n you are now. However, that ain't none o' my business. The fact remains, Bart, that you conspired with Scraggsy to keep things away from me, which shows you ain't the man I thought you were, so from now on you go your way an' I'll go mine." "I got a right to do as I blasted please with my own money," McGuffey defended hotly. "I ain't no child to be lectured to." "Considerin' the fact that you wouldn't have had the money to lend if it hadn't been for me, I allow I'm insulted when you use the said money to give aid an' comfort to my enemy. I'm through." McGuffey, smothered in guilt, felt nevertheless that he had to stand by his guns, so to speak. "Stay through, if you feel like it," he retorted. "Where d'ye get that chatter? Ain't I free, white, an' twenty-one year old?" Mr. Gibney was really hurt. "You poor boob," he murmured. "It's the old game o' settin' a beggar on horseback an' seein' him ride to the devil, or slippin' a gold ring in a pig's nose. An' I figured you was my friend!" "Well, ain't I?" "Fooey! Fooey! Don't talk to me. You'd sell out your own mother." "Them's fightin' words, Gib." "Shut up." "Gib, you tryin' to pick a fight with me?" "No, but I would if I thought I wouldn't git a footrace instead," Gibney rejoined scathingly. "Cripes, what a double-crossin' I been handed! Honest, Bart, when it comes to that sort o' work Scraggs is in his infancy. You sure take the cake." "I ain't got the heart to clout you an' make you eat them words," Mr. McGuffey declared sorrowfully. "You mean you ain't got the guts," Mr. Gibney corrected him. "Bart, I got your number. Good-bye." Mr. McGuffey had a wild impulse to cast himself upon the Gibney neck and weep, but his honour forbade any such weakness. So he invited Mr. Gibney to betake himself to a region several degrees hotter than the _Maggie's_ engine room; then, because he feared to linger and develop a sentimental weakness, he turned his back abruptly and descended to the said engine room. On his part, Adelbert P. Gibney entered the cabin and glared long and menacingly at Captain Scraggs. "I'll have my time," he growled presently. "Give it to me an' give it quick." The very intonation of his voice warned Scraggs that the present was not a time for argument or trifling. Silently he paid Mr. Gibney the money due him; in equal silence the navigating officer went to the pilot house, unscrewed his framed certificate from the wall, packed it with his few belongings, and departed for Scab Johnny's boarding house. "Hello," Scab Johnny saluted him at his entrance. "Quit the _Maggie_?" Mr. Gibney nodded. "Want a trip to the dark blue?" "Lead me to it," mumbled Mr. Gibney. "It'll cost you twenty dollars, Gib. Chief mate on the _Rose of Sharon_, bound for the Galapagos Islands sealing."