"Next," he taunted.
Then the mate got busy. He hustled his stevedores forward in front of
the miners and shook his fist in their faces as he stormed up and down.
If they wanted trouble, by God! it was waiting for 'em, he swore in
apoplectic fury. The Hannah was a river boat and not a dive for wharf
rats. No bunch of roughnecks could come aboard a boat where he was mate
and start anything. They could not assault any passengers of his and
make it stick.
The man with the suitcase did not wait to hear out his tirade. He
followed the purser to his stateroom, dropped his baggage beside the
berth, and joined the Kusiak group on the upper deck.
They greeted him eagerly, a little effusively, as if they were anxious
to prove themselves on good terms with him. The deference they paid and
his assured acceptance of it showed him to be a man of importance. But
apart from other considerations, he dominated by mental and physical
virility the circle of which he instantly became the center. Only Mrs.
Mallory held her own, and even she showed a quickened interest. Her
indolent, half-disdainful manner sheathed a soft sensuousness that held
the provocation of sex appeal.
"What was the matter?" asked Selfridge.
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