Nothing of this was missed by Dag Daughtry, who knew a dog when he saw one, as he studied Michael in the light of the lanterns held by black boys where the whaleboats were landing cargo.
Two estimates the steward quickly made of Michael: he was a likable dog, genial-natured on the face of it, and he was a valuable dog.

Because of those estimates Dag Daughtry glanced about him quickly.

No one was observing.

For the moment, only blacks stood about, and their eyes were turned seaward where the sound of oars out of the darkness warned them to stand ready to receive the next cargo-laden boat.

Off to the right, under another lantern, he could make out the Resident Commissioner's clerk and the _Makambo's_ super-cargo heatedly discussing some error in the bill of lading.
The steward flung another quick glance over Michael and made up his mind.
He turned away casually and strolled along the beach out of the circle of lantern light.