"He is going to try and get to us!" he said, pessimistically, and went
forward to give the necessary orders. He knew his business, too, this
Northern sailor, and when, after a long struggle, the boat containing
Captain Cable and two men came within reach, a rope--cleverly
thrown--coiled out into the flying scud and fell across the captain's
face.
A few minutes later he scrambled on to the deck of the _Olaf_ and shook
hands with Captain Petersen. He did not at once recognize Prince Martin,
who held out his hand.
"Glad to see you, Captain Cable," he said. Cable finished drying the
salt water from his face with a blue cotton handkerchief before he shook
hands.
"Suppose you thought I wasn't coming," he said, suspiciously.
"No, I knew you would."
"Glad to see me for my own sake?" suggested the captain, grimly smiling.
"Yes, it always does one good to see a man," answered Prince Martin.
"They tell me you're a prince."
"That is all."
The captain measured him slowly with his eyes.
"Makings of a man as well, perhaps," he said, doubtfully. Then he turned
to cast an eye over the _Olaf_.
"Tin-kettle of a thing!" he observed, after a pause.
"My little cargo won't be much in her great hold.
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