"I meant that," he said with grave gentleness. "I meant out here—out here where we are. I said exactly that thing. They're as fine a small body of men as you could find anywhere in the middle of the Atlantic Oshum."
"'Oshum'!" Mrs. Tinker echoed angrily. "You can't even talk! Shame on you!"
"Mamma," he said sadly, "you're not yourself, or you wouldn't speak like that to me, anyway not before Baby. I said the Atlantic—the Atlantic Ocean. I don't believe I'm doing any good here."
His daughter agreed with him. "You certainly are not."
Evidently the man became dignified. "The steward will attend to your whishes," Ogle heard him say; and the cabin door closed.
Then the older of the irritated ladies appeared to become uneasy. "If I felt able I expect I ought to dress and go see after him," she said. "You can't tell what kind of people are on this ship. You can't tell who he may fall in with. I'm worried about him."
"I'm worried, too," the querulous voice of the daughter responded. "But not for him."
"Then who"
"I'm worrying for the people he may fall in with,"
