[Pg 59]The anchor splashed from the bows, there was a roar of running chain, the throb of the screw slowly turning astern, and a screaming of startled birds. She brought up, the noise died away, and the silence was emphasized by the clamor of the surf on the opposite shore of the key. The captain looked about with a frown, for the desolation of the spot and the nearness of the reefs had their effect on him. [Pg 59] "Hail them to get your gig over at once, and then we'll have a drink," he said. Macallister answered Grahame's shout, for the Enchantress had anchored close astern, and the boat was hanging from her davits when he followed the captain into his room. The vessels rolled lazily and the swell broke with a languid splash upon the beach, for the bight was sheltered by the reefs. The small room was lighted by an oil lamp and was very hot. A pilot coat, damp with salt, and a suit of oilskins swung to and fro across the bulkhead, and a pair of knee-boots stood in a corner. Two or three bad photographic portraits were tacked against the teakwood paneling, but except for these, all that the room contained suggested stern utility. Unlocking a cupboard, the captain took a bottle and some glasses from a rack, and Walthew coughed as he tasted the fiery spirit. "That's powerful stuff, but the flavor's good," he said with an attempt at politeness. A big, greasy man who the captain informed the others was Mr. James, his chief engineer, came in. He sat down with his feet on the locker, and helped himself liberally to the spirits. In the meanwhile the captain put an inkstand on the small folding table. [Pg 60]"You have the bill of lading; endorse it that you've got delivery, and I'll give you a receipt for the freight." [Pg 60] Grahame glanced at Walthew, who sat nearest the door, and the lad looked out. "The gig's alongside, ready for the cases," he said. "We'll heave them up as soon as we've finished this business," the captain replied. Grahame wrote a check and put it on the table with some American paper currency.