Supper was the first good meal they had had aboard that day. After
everything was cleaned up, the black cook joined the crew forward.
In whispers the men talked over both the skipper and his schooner.
The story of the curse was known to everybody in Big Wreck Cove by
this time, and none of these new men was ignorant of it. They had,
however, merely used it as a means of getting more pay than ordinary
seamen were getting in such vessels.
"'Tain't nothing as I can see," one of the older men said, "that is
likely to hurt us. It's a curse on the schooner, not on us folks
that warn't aboard her when she run under that other boat. And as
long as we keep away from the spot where the poor devils was
drowned, we ain't likely to see no ha'nts."
The cook's eyes rolled tremendously.
"You thinks likely this yere is that _Marlin B._?"
"Bah!" exclaimed one, whose name was Carney. "It's only talk. Maybe
she ain't that schooner at all. Mr. Chapin says she ain't."
"Is that so?" sneered the voice of 'Rion Latham behind them. "You
fellows don't want to believe what the skipper and the mate say. It
ain't to their benefit for you to believe the truth. Look here!"
"What's that?" asked Carney, looking at the article Orion pushed
forward in the dark.
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