But it's to trouble he'll come with Wolf Larsen, as the sparks fly upward.
It's meself that knows.

I can see it brewin' an' comin' up like a storm in the sky.

I've talked to him like a brother, but it's little he sees in takin' in his lights or flyin' false signals.

He grumbles out when things don't go to suit him, and there'll be always some tell-tale carryin' word iv it aft to the Wolf.

The Wolf is strong, and it's the way of a wolf to hate strength, an' strength it is he'll see in Johnson--no knucklin' under, and a 'Yes, sir, thank ye kindly, sir,' for a curse or a blow.