"This thing
's gone just about as far as it 's going to go. You big fool, can't you
see the stuff the boy 's made of? He speaks true. He 's right, and he
knows it, and you could kill him and he would n't give in. There 's my
hand on it, Joe." He turned and extended his hand to Joe, who returned
the grip. "You 've got spunk and you 're not afraid to show it."
French Pete's mouth twisted itself in a sickly smile, but the evil gleam
in his eyes gave it the lie. He shrugged his shoulders and said, "Ah! So?
He does not dee-sire dat I call him pet names. Ha, ha! It is only ze
sailorman play. Let us--what you call--forgive and forget, eh? Vaire good;
forgive and forget."
He reached out his hand, but Joe refused to take it. 'Frisco Kid nodded
approval, while French Pete, still shrugging his shoulders and smiling,
passed into the cabin.
"Slack off ze main-sheet," he called out, "and run down for Hunter's Point.
For one time I will cook ze dinner, and den you will say dat it is ze
vaire good dinner. Ah! French Pete is ze great cook!"
"That 's the way he always does--gets real good and cooks when he wants
to make up," 'Frisco Kid hazarded, slipping the tiller into the rudder-head
and obeying the order. "But even then you can't trust him."
Joe nodded his head, but did not speak. He was in no mood for conversation.
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