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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Blood Ship, by Norman Springer
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: The Blood Ship
+
+
+Author: Norman Springer
+
+
+
+Release Date: December 30, 2005  [eBook #17414]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BLOOD SHIP***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Al Haines
+
+
+
+THE BLOOD SHIP
+
+by
+
+NORMAN SPRINGER
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Grosset & Dunlap
+Publishers ---------- New York
+Made in the United States of America
+Copyright, 1922, by
+W. J. Watt & Company
+Printed in the United States of America
+Third Edition
+
+
+
+
+
+THE BLOOD SHIP
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+It was the writing guy who drew this story out of Captain Shreve.  He
+talked so much I think the Old Man spun the yarn just to shut him up.
+He had talked ever since his arrival on board, early that morning, with
+a letter from the owners' agent, and the announcement he intended
+making the voyage with us.  He had weak lungs, he said, and was in
+search of mild, tropical breezes.  Also, he was seeking local color,
+and whatever information he could pick up about "King" Waldon.
+
+He had heard of the death of "King" Waldon, down in Samoa--Waldon, the
+trader, of the vanishing race of island adventurers--and he expected to
+travel about the south seas investigating the "king's" past, so he
+could write a book about the old viking.  He had heard that Captain
+Shreve had known Waldon.  Hence, he was honoring a cargo carrier with
+his presence instead of taking his ease upon a mail-boat.
+
+Captain Shreve must tell him all he knew about the "king."  He was
+intensely interested in the subject.  Splendid material, you know.
+That romantic legend of Waldon's arrival in the islands--too good to be
+true, and certainly too good not to put into a book.  Was Captain
+Shreve familiar with the tale?  How this fellow, Waldon, sailed into a
+Samoan harbor in an open boat, his only companion his beautiful young
+wife?  Imagine--this man and woman coming from nowhere, sailing in from
+the open sea in a small boat, never telling whence they came!
+
+He said this was the stuff to go into his book.  Romance, mystery!  It
+was quite as important as the later and better known incidents in the
+"king's" life.  That was why Captain Shreve must tell him all he knew
+about the fellow.  If he could only get at the beginning of the
+"king's" career in the islands.  Where did the fellow come from?  Why
+should a man bring his bride into an uncivilized and lawless section of
+the world, and settle down for life?  There must be a story in that.
+Ah, yes, and he was the man who could properly do it.
+
+Well, that was the way that writer talked.  He talked so steadily
+nobody could slide a word in edgeways.  Yet he said he wanted
+information.  We wondered.  If the ability to deliver an unending
+monologue, consisting chiefly of the ninth letter in the alphabet, is
+any sign of lung power, that chap didn't need any cod-liver oil or sea
+air.  He could have given up writing, and still have made a good living
+ashore as a blacksmith's bellows!  And as for the local color and
+information--well, he blinked through his black rimmed glasses at our
+immaculate decks, and said it was a pity they built ships for use and
+not for looks nowadays, and went on talking about himself, and what he
+could do with "King" Waldon.
+
+Briggs, the mate, confided to me in a soft aside that the chap was
+making the voyage because he knew he had an audience which couldn't
+escape--unless it jumped over the side.  Captain Shreve didn't confide;
+his face kept its accustomed expression of serenity, and he made no
+attempt to stem the author's flood of words.  I was somewhat surprised
+by this meekness, for our Old Man is a great hand to puncture a
+windbag; but then, I reflected, the writing guy, being a passenger, was
+in the nature of a guest on board, and, according to Captain Shreve's
+code, a man to be humored.
+
+We lay in the Stream, with a half dozen hours to pass ere we proceeded
+to sea.  It was Sunday, so we were idle, the four of us lounging on the
+lower bridge deck--the Captain, Briggs, myself, and this human
+phonograph.  It was a pleasant day, and we would have enjoyed the loaf
+in the warm afternoon sunshine, had it not been for the unending drivel
+of the passenger.  I enjoyed it anyway, for even though the ears be
+filled with a buzzing, the eyes are free, and San Francisco Bay is an
+interesting place.
+
+". . . and the critics all agree," the passenger rambled on, "that my
+genius is proved by my amazingly accurate portraits of character.  I
+have the gift.  That is why I shall do 'King' Waldon so well.  I need
+but a mental image of the man to make him live again.  You must tell me
+what he looked like, Captain.  Is it true, as I have been told, he was
+such a giant of a man, and possessed of such enormous physical
+strength?  And that his hair retained its yellow luster even in old
+age?  And that he had a great scar on his face, or head, about which he
+never spoke?  Ah, yes, you must tell me about him, Captain."
+
+Captain Shreve grunted at this--the first sound he had been able to
+squeeze into the talk for half an hour.  But the author did not pause;
+in fact he hastened on, as though determined to forestall any
+interruption.  Talk!  I don't know when that fellow found any time to
+write.  He was too eager to tell the world about his gift.
+
+"You know," says he, "I need but a few little intimate facts about
+'King' Waldon's appearance and character, and I can make him stalk
+through my story as truly alive as when he was in the flesh.  If he
+were alive I should not need your assistance, Captain; one look at the
+man and I could paint him in his true colors.  I have that gift.  Not
+men alone--I am able to invest even inanimate objects with personality.
+A house, a street, or a--yes, even a ship.  Even this ship.  Now, this
+old box----"
+
+Captain Shreve sat up straight in his chair.  I thought he was rasped
+by the fellow's slur, for he is very proud of his ship.  But it was
+something else that rubbed the expression of patient resignation from
+his face; he was staring over the starboard rail with an expression of
+lively interest.  I followed his gaze with mine, but saw only a
+ferryboat in the distance, and, close by, a big red-stack tug towing a
+dilapidated coal hulk.
+
+The Captain's eyes were upon this tow.  He tugged excitedly at his
+beard.  "Well, by George, what a coincidence!" he exclaimed.  He turned
+to the mate, his bright eyes snapping.  "Look, Briggs!  Do you know
+her?  By George, do you recognize her?"
+
+The writing guy was disgusted by this interruption, just when he was
+going to prove his genius.  Briggs shifted his quid, spat, and
+inspected the passing hulk with extreme deliberation.  I looked at her
+too, wondering what there was about an old coal-carrier that could
+pierce Captain Shreve's accustomed phlegm.
+
+The tow was passing abreast, but a couple of hundred yards distant.
+The tug was shortening the line, and on the hulk's forecastle-head a
+couple of hands were busy at a cathead, preparing to let go anchor.
+She was ill-favored enough to look at, that hulk--weather-beaten,
+begrimed, stripped of all that makes a ship sightly.  Nothing but the
+worn-out old hull was left.  An eyesore, truly.  Yet, any seaman could
+see with half an eye she had once been a fine ship.  The clipper lines
+were there.
+
+Suddenly Briggs sat up in his chair, and exclaimed, "Well, blast my
+eyes, so it is!"  He nodded to the Captain, and then returned his
+regard to the hulk, his nostrils working with interest.  "So it is!  So
+it is!  Well, blast my----"
+
+"Is what?" I demanded.  "What do you two see in that old hull that is
+so extraordinary?"
+
+Just then the writing guy decided we had monopolized the conversation
+long enough.  So he seized the opportunity to exercise for our benefit
+the rare gift he was endowed with.  He glanced patronizingly at the
+coal hulk, wrinkled his nose in disapprobation of her appearance, and
+delivered himself in an oracular voice.
+
+"What a horrible looking old tub!  Not a difficult task to invest her
+with her true personality.  An old workhorse--eh?  A broken down old
+plug, built for heavy labor, and now rounding out an uninspiring
+existence by performing the most menial of tasks.  An apt
+description--what?"
+
+I noticed a faint smile crack the straight line of Captain Shreve's
+mouth.  But it was Briggs who was unable to contain himself.  He turned
+full upon the poor scribe, and plainly voiced his withering scorn.
+
+"Why, blast my eyes, young feller, if you weren't as blind as a bat
+you'd know you were talking rot!  'A workhorse!' you say.  'A broken
+down old plug!'  Blast me, man, look at the lines of her!"
+
+The passenger flushed, and stared uncomprehendingly at the poor old
+hulk.  The tug had gone, and she was lying anchored, now, a few hundred
+yards off our starboard bow.  A sorry sight.  The author could see
+nothing but her ugliness.
+
+"Why, she is just a dirty old scow--" he commenced.
+
+"Blast me, can't you even guess what she once was?" went on Briggs,
+relentlessly.  "Well, young feller, that dirty old scow--as you call
+her--is the _Golden Bough_!"
+
+The passenger only blinked.  The name meant nothing to him.  But it did
+to me.
+
+"The _Golden Bough_!" I echoed.  "Surely you don't mean the _Golden
+Bough_?"
+
+"But I do," said Briggs.  He waved his hand.  "There she is--the
+_Golden Bough_.  All that is left of the finest ship that ever smashed
+a record with the American flag at her gaff.  She's a coal hulk now,
+but once she was the finest vessel afloat.  Eh, Captain?"
+
+Captain Shreve nodded affirmation.  Then he turned to the writing guy,
+and courteously salved the chap's self-esteem.
+
+"Small wonder you overlooked her build; it takes a sailor's eye for
+such things.  And really, your description strikes home to me.  We are
+all workhorses, are we not, we of the sea?  And time breaks down us
+all, man and ship."  The Old Man was staring at the hulk, and his voice
+was sorrowful.  "Aye, but time has used her cruelly!  What a pity--she
+was so bonny!"
+
+
+The writing guy perked up at this.  "Well, you know, I see her through
+a layman's eyes," he explained.  "And she does look so old, and dirty,
+and commonplace----"
+
+Briggs snorted, and the Captain hastened to continue, cutting off the
+mate's hard words.  "Oh, yes, she looks old and dirty--no mistake.  But
+time was when no ship afloat could match her for either looks or speed.
+Aye, she was a beauty.  Remember how she looked in the old days,
+Briggs?"
+
+Briggs did.  He emphatically blasted his eyes to the effect that he
+remembered very well the _Golden Bough_ in the days of her glory, the
+days when she was no workhorse, but a double-planked racehorse of the
+seas, as anyone but a lubber could see she had once been, just by
+looking at her.  Yes, blast his eyes, he remembered her.  He remembered
+one time running the Easting down in the _Josiah T. Flynn_, a smart
+ship, with a reputation, and they were cracking on as they would never
+dare crack, on in these degenerate days, when, blast his eyes, the
+_Golden Bough_ came up on them, and passed, and ran away from the poor
+old _Flynn_, and Yankee Swope had stood on his poopdeck at the passing,
+and waved a hawser-end at the Old Man of the _Flynn_, asking if he
+wanted a tow.  "And then we caught hell," commented Mr. Briggs.  Aye,
+he should say he did remember the _Golden Bough_.  But he had never
+sailed in her.
+
+"And she looks commonplace enough," continued Captain Shreve,
+"providing you know nothing of her history.  But she does not look
+commonplace to Briggs or me.  I suppose we regard her through the mist
+of memory--we see the tall, beautiful ship that was.  We know the
+record of that ship.  Aye, lad, and if those sorry-looking timbers
+yonder could talk, you would not have to make the voyage with us in
+order to get a taste of the salt.  You'd get real local color
+there--you'd hear of many a wild ocean race, of smashed records, or
+shanghaied crews and mutinies.  Yes, and you'd get, perhaps, some of
+that particular information you say you are after.  Those old, broken
+bulwarks yonder have looked upon life, I can tell you--and upon death."
+
+"The dangerous life of the sailor, I presume," drawled the writing guy.
+"Falling from aloft, and being washed overboard, and all that sort of
+thing."
+
+"Not always," retorted Captain Shreve.  "There were other ways of going
+to Davy Jones in the old clipper days--and in these days, also, for
+that matter.  Knives, for instance, or bullets, or a pair of furious
+hands--if you care for violent tragedy.  But I did not mean the
+physical dangers of life, particularly; I meant, rather, that Fate
+tangles lives on board ship as queerly as in cities ashore.  I meant
+that the _Golden Bough_, in her day, left her mark upon a good many
+lives.  She broke men, and made them.  And once, I know, she had to do
+with a woman's life, and a woman's love.  There was a wedding performed
+upon that ship upon the high seas, and a dead man sprawled on the deck
+at the feet of the nuptial pair, and the bride was the dead man's
+widow!"
+
+"Oh, come now--" said the writing guy.  It was plain he thought the
+skipper was stringing him.  But I knew how difficult it was to get our
+Old Man to spin a yarn, and I was determined he should not be shunted
+off on a new tack.  I interrupted the author, hurriedly.  "Did you ever
+make a voyage in the _Golden Bough_, Captain?" I asked.
+
+"Yes," replied the Captain.  "I was a witness to that wedding; and I
+played my small part in bringing it about.  Yes, that old wreck yonder
+has had a good deal to do with my own life.  I received my first boost
+upward in the _Golden Bough_.  Shipped in the foc'sle, and ended the
+voyage in the cabin.  Stepped into dead man's shoes.  And more
+important than that--I won my manhood on those old decks."
+
+"Ah, performed some valorous deed?" purred the writing guy.
+
+"No; I abstained from performing an infamous deed," said Captain
+Shreve.  "I think that is the way most men win to manhood."
+
+"Oh!" said the writing guy.  He seemed about to say a lot more, when I
+put my oar in again.
+
+"Let us have the yarn, Captain," I begged.
+
+Captain Shreve squinted at the sun, and then favored the passenger with
+one of his rare smiles.  "Why, yes," he said.  "We have an idle
+afternoon ahead of us, and I'll gladly spin the yarn.  You say, sir,
+you are interested in ships, and sailors, and, particularly, in 'King'
+Waldon's history.  Well, perhaps you may find some material of use in
+this tale of mine; though I fear my lack of skill in recounting it may
+offend your trained mind.
+
+"Yet it is simply life and living--this yarn.  Human beings set down
+upon those decks to work out their separate destinies as Fate and
+character directed.  Aye, and their characters, and the motives that
+inspired their acts, were diverse enough, heaven knows.
+
+"There was Swope, Black Yankee Swope, who captained that hell-ship, a
+man with a twisted heart, a man who delighted in evil, and worked it
+for its own sake.  There was Holy Joe, the shanghaied parson, whose
+weak flesh scorned the torture, because of the strong, pure faith in
+the man's soul.  There were Blackie and Boston, their rat-hearts
+steeled to courage by lust of gold, their rascally, seductive tongues
+welding into a dangerous unit the mob of desperate, broken stiffs who
+inhabited the foc'sle.  There were Lynch and Fitzgibbon, the buckos,
+living up to their grim code; and the Knitting Swede, that prince of
+crimps, who put most of us into the ship.  There was myself, with my
+childish vanity, and petty ambitions.  There was the lady, the
+beautiful, despairing lady aft, wife of the infamous brute who ruled
+us.  There was Cockney, the gutless swab, whose lying words nearly had
+Newman's life.  And last, and chiefly, there was the man with the scar,
+he who called himself 'Newman,' man of mystery, who came like the
+fabled knight, killed the beast who held the princess captive, and led
+her out of bondage.  And I helped him; and saw the shanghaied parson
+marry them, there on the bloody deck.
+
+"Stuff for a yarn--eh?  But just life, and living.  By George, it was
+mighty strenuous living, too!  And yet, well as I know this tale I
+lived in, I am at a loss how to commence telling it.  You know, sir,
+this is where you writing folk have at disadvantage the chaps who only
+live their stories--you see the yarn from the beginning to the end, we
+see but those chapters in which Fate makes us characters.  The
+beginning, the end, the plot--all are beyond our ken.  If indeed there
+is a beginning, or end, or plot to a story one lives."
+
+"Every story must have a beginning, a middle, and an end," began the
+writing guy, sonorously.  "Now I----"
+
+Just then I leaned over and placed my number nine brogan firmly upon
+that writing guy's kid-clad foot, and held him in speechless agony for
+a moment, while Captain Shreve got his yarn fairly launched.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+Then, if I must have a beginning for the yarn (said Captain Shreve),
+I'll begin with that morning, in this very port of San Francisco, when
+I walked out of the Shipping Commissioner's office with my first A.B.'s
+discharge in my hand, and a twelve months' pay-day jingling in my
+pocket.  For I must explain something of my state of mind on that
+morning, so you will understand how I got Into Yankee Swope's
+blood-ship.
+
+It was the heyday of the crimps, and I walked through the very heart of
+crimpdom, along the old East street.  It is not a very prepossessing
+thoroughfare even to-day, when it masquerades as the Embarcadero, a
+sinner reformed.  In those days, when it was just East street, it
+consisted of solid blocks of ramshackle frame buildings, that housed
+all the varieties of sharks and harpies who live off Jack ashore; it
+was an ugly, dirty, fascinating way, a street with a garish, besotted
+face.  But on this morning it seemed the most wonderful avenue in the
+world to me.  I saw East street through the colorful eyes of youth--the
+eyes of Romance.
+
+I stepped along with my chest out and my chin up-tilted.  A few paces
+behind me a beachcomber wobbled along with my sea-bag on his
+shoulder--for what A.B. would demean himself with such labor on
+pay-day, when moochers abounded at his heel!  I was looking for a
+boarding-house.
+
+But it was not the Sailors' Home.  That respectable institution might
+do very well for boys, and callow ordinary seamen, but it certainly
+would not do for a newly made A.B.  Nor was I looking for Mother
+Harrison's place, as I told Mother's runner, who stuck at my elbow for
+a time.  Mother Harrison's was known as the quietest, most orderly
+house on the street; it might do for those quiet and orderly old
+shellbacks whose blood had been chilled by age; but it would never do
+for a young A.B., a real man, who was wishful for all the mad living
+the beach afforded.  No; I was looking for the Knitting Swede's.
+
+Knitting Swede Olson!  Remember him, Briggs?  A fine hole for a young
+fool to seek!  But I was a man, remember--a MAN--and that precious
+discharge proved it.  I was nineteen years old, and manhood bears a
+very serious aspect at nineteen.  No wonder I was holding my head in
+the air.  The fellows in my watch would listen to my opinions with
+respect, now I was an able seaman.  No longer would I scrub the foc'sle
+floor while the lazy beggars slept.  No longer would I peggy week in
+and week out.  I was A.B. at last; a full-fledged man!  Of course, I
+must straightway prove my manhood; so I was bound for the Knitting
+Swede's.
+
+Everybody knew the Knitting Swede in those days; every man Jack who
+ever joined a ship.  They told of him in New York, and London, and
+Callao, and Singapore, and in every foc'sle afloat.  The king of
+crimps!  He sat in his barroom, in East street, placidly knitting socks
+with four steel needles, and as placidly ignoring every law of God and
+man.  He ruled the 'Frisco waterfront, did the Knitting Swede, and made
+his power felt to the very ends of the seas.
+
+Stories about him were without number.  It was the Knitting Swede who
+shanghaied the corpse on board the _Tam o' Shanter_.  It was the
+Knitting Swede who drugged the skipper of the _Sequoia_, and shipped
+him in his own foc'sle.  It was the Knitting Swede who sent the crowd
+of cowboys to sea in the _Enterprise_.  It was the Knitting Swede who
+was the infamous hero of quite half the dog-watch yarns.  It was the
+Knitting Swede who was--oh, the very devil!
+
+And it was on this very account I was bound for the Swede's house.
+Very simple, and sailorlike, my motive.  In my mind's eye I saw a scene
+which would be enacted on board my next ship.  Some fellow would ask
+me--as some fellow always does--"And what house did you put up in, in
+'Frisco, Jack?"  And I would take the pipe out of my mouth, and answer
+in a carefully careless voice, "Oh, I stopped with the Knitting Swede."
+And then the whole foc'sle would look at me as one man, and there would
+be respect in their eyes.  For only very hard cases ever stopped at the
+Knitting Swede's.
+
+Well, I found the Swede's place easily enough.  And he was there in
+person to welcome me.  I discovered his appearance to be just what the
+stories described--a tall, great paunched man, who bulked gigantic as
+he perched on a high stool at the end of the bar, a half-knitted gray
+sock in his hands, and an air about him of cow-like contentment.  He
+possessed a mop of straw-colored hair, and a pair of little, mild, blue
+eyes that regarded one with all the innocence of a babe's stare.
+
+He suspended his knitting for a moment, gave me a fat, flabby hand, and
+a grin which disclosed a mouthful of yellow teeth.
+
+"_Ja_, you koom for a good time, and, by and by, a good ship," says he.
+"Yoost trust the Swede--he treat you right."
+
+So he sent my bag upstairs to a room, accepted my money for
+safekeeping, and I set up the drinks for the house.
+
+What?  Give him my money for safekeeping?  Of course.  There was a code
+of honor even in crimpdom, you know.  I came to the Swede's house of my
+own choosing; no runner of his snared me out of a ship.  Therefore I
+would be permitted to spend the last dollar of my pay-day, chiefly over
+his bar, of course, and when the money was gone, he would ship me in a
+ship of my own choosing.  Unless, of course, men were exceptionally
+scarce, and blood money exceptionally high.  Crimpdom honor wouldn't
+stand much temptation.  But I was confident of my ability to look after
+myself.  I was a man of nineteen, you know.
+
+So, at the Knitting Swede's I was lodged.  I spent most of my first day
+there in examining and getting acquainted with my fellow lodgers.  Aye,
+they were a crowd, quite in keeping with the repute of the house; hard
+living, hard swearing, hard fighting A.B.'s, for the most part; the
+unruly toughs of the five oceans.  I swaggered amongst them and thought
+myself a very devil of a fellow.  I bought them drinks at the Swede's
+bar, and listened with immense satisfaction to their loud comments on
+my generosity.  It was, "He's a fine lad, and no mistake!" and, "He's a
+real proper bloke, for certain!"  And I ordered up the rounds, and
+swung my shoulders, and felt like a "real proper bloke" indeed.
+
+Well, I saw one chap in the house who really attracted me.  I should
+liked to have chummed with him, and I went out of my way to be friendly
+towards him.  He was a regular giant of a man, with yellow hair and
+frosty eyes, and a very white face.  In fact he looked as if he might
+have recently been sick, though his huge, muscular frame showed no
+effects of an illness.  He had a jagged, bluish scar over one eye,
+which traveled up his forehead and disappeared beneath his hair,
+plainly the result of some terrible clout.  But it was not these
+things, not his face or size which drew me to him; it was his bearing.
+
+All of the chaps in Swede Olson's house were hard cases.  They boasted
+of their hardness.  But their hardness was the typical tough's
+hardness, nine parts bravado, a savagery not difficult to subdue with
+an oak belaying pin in the fist of a bucko mate.  But the hardness of
+this big, scar-faced man was of a different sort.  You sensed,
+immediately you looked at him, that he possessed a steely armor of
+indifference that penetrated to his very heart.  He was a real hard
+case, a proper nut, a fellow who simply did not care what happened.  It
+was nothing he said or did, but his demeanor declared plainly he was
+utterly reckless of events or consequences.  It was amusing to observe
+how circumspectly the bullies of the house walked while in his
+neighborhood.
+
+But I found him to be a man of silent and lonesome habit, and
+temperate.  He discouraged my friendly advance with a cold
+indifference, and my idea of chumming with him during my pay-day "bust"
+soon went glimmering.  Yet I admired him mightily from the moment I
+first clapped eyes upon him, and endeavored to imitate his carriage of
+utter recklessness in my own strutting.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+The talk in the Swede's house was all of drink and women and ships.  I
+was too young and clean to find much enjoyment in too much of the first
+two; much liquor made me sick, and I did not find the painted Jezebels
+of sailor-town attractive.  But ships were my life, and I lent a ready
+ear to the gossip about them.  To tell the truth, I didn't enjoy the
+Knitting Swede's place very much.  I did so want to be a hard case, and
+I guess I was a pretty hard case, but I didn't like the other hard
+cases.  Youth likes companionship, but I didn't want to chum with that
+gang, willing though most of them were that I permit them to help me
+spend my money.  I hadn't been ashore twenty-four hours before I found
+myself wishing for a clean breeze and blue water.
+
+Shipping was brisk in the port, and I discovered I would have no
+trouble in picking my ship when my money was gone.  The _Enterprise_
+was loading for Boston; the _Glory of the Seas_ would sail within the
+fortnight for the United Kingdom; there were a half-dozen other smart
+ships wishing to be manned by smart lads.  I had nothing to worry
+about.  I could blow my pay-day as quickly as I liked; there was no
+danger of my being stranded "on the beach."
+
+So I spent my money, as violently as possible.  I made a noise in the
+Swede's house, and was proud of myself.  My first A.B.'s spree!
+
+On the third evening of my "bust," my mettle was tested.  There was a
+woman in the Swede's house, a slim wisp of a little Jewess, with the
+sweet face of a Madonna and the eyes of a wanton.  Well--she smiled on
+me.  She had good reason to; was I not making my gold pieces dance a
+merry tune?  Was I not fair game for any huntress?
+
+But she belonged to the Swede's chief runner, his number one bouncer,
+as ugly a brute as ever thumped a drunken sailor.  The bully objected,
+with a deal of obscene threatening, to my fancied raiding of his
+property.  We had it out with bare knuckles in the Swede's big back
+room, with all the little tables pushed against the wall to make
+fighting space, and the toughest crowd in San Francisco standing by to
+see fair play.  I was the younger, and as hard as nails, he was soft
+and rotten with evil living, so I thrashed him soundly enough in five
+rounds.
+
+After he had taken the count, I turned away and commenced to pull my
+shirt on over my head.  I heard a sharp curse, a yell of pain, and the
+clatter of steel upon the floor.  When my head emerged, I beheld my
+late antagonist slinking away before the threatening figure of the man
+with the scar.  The bully's right arm dangled by his side, limp and
+broken, and a sheath-knife was lying on the floor, at the big man's
+feet.  The sight gave me a rather sick feeling at the pit of the
+stomach, for I realized I had narrowly escaped being knifed.
+
+The scar-faced man would not listen to my thanks.  He bestowed upon me
+a cool, bracing glance, and remarked, "You must never take your eyes
+off one of that breed!"  Then he resumed his seat at a table in the far
+corner of the room, and quite plainly dismissed the incident from his
+mind.
+
+Indeed, the house as speedily dismissed the incident from Its
+collective mind.  A fist fight or a knifing was but a momentary
+diversion in the Swede's place.  Five minutes after he left the room,
+the whipped bully left the establishment, his one good hand carrying
+his duffle.  The Knitting Swede would have no whipped bouncer in his
+employ.
+
+That was a purple night for me.  I was the victor, and the fruits of
+the victory were very sweet.  The Jewess murmured adoring flatteries in
+my ear.  The others--that crowd of rough, tough men--clapped me
+respectfully upon the back, felt gingerly of my biceps, and swore
+loudly and luridly I was the best man in the port.  I agreed with
+them--and set up the drinks, again and again.  Oh, I was a great man
+that night!  The house caroused at my expense till late.
+
+Only my silent friend in the corner declined to take part in the
+merry-making.  The man with the scar sat alone, drinking nothing, and
+regarding with cool and visible contempt the dizzy gyrations of the
+roughs who were swilling away the money I had worked for.  But his open
+contempt of them was not resented, even at the height of the orgy.
+They were hard cases, rough, tough fighting men, but they gave the big
+fellow plenty of sea-room.  No ruffling or swaggering in his direction.
+No gibes or practical jokes.  The bludgeon-like wit of the house very
+carefully passed him by.  For he was so plainly a desperate man.
+
+"He's a bad one," whispered the Jewess to me, lifting an eye towards
+the lonely table.  "He has the house bluffed.  Bet you the Swede
+doesn't try any of his tricks with him.  He's a real bad one.  Wonder
+who he is?"
+
+I openly admired the man.  I'd have given my soul almost to own his
+manner.  The careless yet grand air of the man, the something about him
+that lifted him above the rest of us--aye, he was the real hero, he was
+the sort of hard case I wanted to be.
+
+"I know he's a sailorman by the cut of his jib," I said.  "But he is so
+pale--and that scar--I guess he is just out of the hospital.  Been
+sick, or hurt, most likely."
+
+The woman gave me a pitying look that set my teeth on edge.  She was
+continually marveling over my innocence, and I didn't relish being
+innocent.  "Just out of hospital!" she mocked.  "You certainly haven't
+been around places like this very much or you would know."
+
+"Know what?" I demanded.
+
+She shook her head, and looked serious.  "No, I'll not preach, not even
+to you.  And I like him--because he saved you."
+
+Next morning the Swede interrupted his knitting long enough to toss my
+last ten dollars across the bar.  "Ay tank you ship now?" says he.
+
+The huskies who were gathered about the room immediately chorused their
+disapproval.  "Oh, give the poor beggar a chance!" they sang out.  "Let
+him rest up a spell, Swede!"  But the Swede had gauged me correctly.
+He knew I would not want to stay on the beach after my money was spent.
+
+"I am ready to ship," I told him, "but, remember this, Swede, in a ship
+of my own choosing."
+
+He grinned widely, and showed his whole mouthful of yellow teeth.  His
+baby stare rested appreciatively upon me, as though I had just cracked
+an excellent joke.  "Oh, _ja_, you pick him yourself," he chortled.
+"Mineself get you good ship, easy ship.  No bucko, no hardtack, good
+pay, soft time, by Yimminy!"
+
+His mirthful humor abruptly vanished.  He leaned towards me, and the
+lids of his little round eyes slowly lifted.  It was like the lifting
+of curtains.  For an instant I looked into the unplumbed abyss of the
+man's soul, and I felt the full impact of his ruthless, powerful mind.
+It was an astonishing revelation of character, that glance.  I think
+the Swede designed it so, for he was about to make me a momentous offer.
+
+"Ay ship you by easy ship, shore-going ship.  No vatch, no heavy
+veather, good times, _ja_.  You thump mine roonar, you take his
+voomans, so--you take his yob.  _Ja_?  You ship by the Knitting Swede?"
+
+The eyelids drooped, and his gaze was again one of infantile innocence.
+His fat smooth jowls quivered, as he waited with an expectant smile for
+my answer.
+
+I'll admit I was completely bowled over for a moment.  A hush had
+fallen upon the room.  I heard a voice behind me exclaim softly and
+bitterly, "Gaw' blimme, 'e's got it!"  I knew the voice belonged to a
+big Cockney who was, himself, an avowed candidate for the runner's job.
+My mind was filled with confused, tingling thoughts.  Oh, I was a man,
+right enough, to be singled out by the Knitting Swede for his chief
+lieutenancy.  I was a hard case, a proper nut, to have that honor
+offered me.  For it _was_ an honor in sailordom.  I thought of the
+foc'sles to come, and my shipmates pointing me out most respectfully as
+the fighting bloke who had been offered a chief runner's berth by the
+Knitting Swede.
+
+For I did not doubt there would be other foc'sles, and soon.  Life
+ashore at the Knitting Swede's was not for me.  Young fool, I was, with
+all the conceit of my years and inches.  Yet I realized clearly enough
+I would only be happy with the feel of a deck beneath my feet, and the
+breath of open water in my nostrils.  I was of the sea, and for the
+sea.  And if anything were needed to make my decision more certain,
+there was the little Jewess.  She leaned close, and there was more than
+a hint of command in her voice.  "Boy, say yes!  I want you to, Boy!"
+
+"Boy!"  To me, a nineteen-year-old man, who had just been offered a
+fighting man's berth!  "I want you to," she commanded.  I saw more
+clearly just what the Swede's offer meant: to spend my days in evil
+living, my drugged will twisted about the slim, dishonest fingers of
+the wanton; to spend my nights carrying out whatever black rascality
+the Swede might command.  An ignoble slavery.  Not for me!
+
+"I'll only ship in a proper ship, Swede," I said, decisively.
+
+The Swede nodded.  My refusal did not disconcert him; I think his
+insight had prepared him for it.  But the tension in the room released
+with a loud gasp of astonishment.  It was unbelievable to those bullies
+that such an offer could be turned down.  A sailorman refusing
+unlimited opportunities for getting drunk!  "Gaw' strike me blind, 'e
+arn't got the guts for hit!" a voice cried at my elbow, and I found the
+Cockney openly sneering into my face.
+
+I saw through his motive immediately.  Cockney wanted the job, and he
+wasn't going to allow the Swede to overlook his peculiar qualifications
+a second time.  Therefore, he would risk battle with me.
+
+I was nothing loath.  I might turn down the job, but I would not turn
+down a challenge.  I stepped back, and my coat was already on the floor
+by the time the Swede had a chance to form his words.  And his words
+showed him also cognizant of the Cockney's ruse.
+
+"'Vast there, Cocky!  Ay give you the yob.  No need to fight, and get
+smashed sick.  To-night I got vork--to put the crew by the _Golden
+Bough_!"
+
+The Cockney's hostility melted into a satisfied smirk.  He called upon
+his Maker with many blasphemies while he assured the Swede he was the
+very "proper blushin' bloke" for the berth.  The crowd straightway lost
+all interest in the runnership; they had another sensation to occupy
+them.  At the Swede's words, a low growl ran around the room, a growl
+which swelled into a chorus of imprecations.
+
+The Swede was going to ship the crew for the _Golden Bough_ that night!
+That meant he needed sailors.  And every man who was in debt to the
+Swede, or in any way under his thumb (and I suspect every man Jack of
+them was under his thumb in some fashion or other), quaked in his
+boots, and thought, "Will the Swede choose me?"  For they knew ships,
+those men, and they knew the _Golden Bough_.  Some of them had sailed
+in her.
+
+The Swede grinned jocosely at me.  "How you like to ship by the _Golden
+Bough_!  There ban easy ship, _Ja_!  Plenty grub, easy vork, good
+mates----"
+
+"Yah-h-h!"  One swelling, jeering shout from the whole crowd submerged
+the Swede's joking reference.
+
+"Plenty to eat!" yelled one.  "Aye, plenty o' belaying-pin soup, an'
+knuckle-duster hash!"
+
+"Easy work!" sang out another.  "In your watch below, which never
+happens!"
+
+"Proper gents, the mates are," spoke up a third.  "They eats a
+sailorman every mornin' for breakfast!"
+
+Oh, they knew the _Golden Bough_!  Who did not?
+
+"How many, Swede?" called out a man.
+
+"Ay ban ship a crowd of stiffs--and some sailor-mans," stated the Swede.
+
+Cursing broke out afresh.  Some of them must go!  The bulk of the crew
+was to be crimped, of course, in the Swede knew what kennels of the
+town.  But a few tried sailormen must go to leaven that sodden,
+sea-ignorant lump.  It was like condemning men to penal servitude.  No
+wonder they swore.  And swear they did, with mouth-filling, curdling
+oaths, as though in vain hope their flaming words would quite consume
+that evilly known vessel.
+
+In the midst of that bedlam I stood thinking strange thoughts.  It is
+hardly credible, but I was considering if I should tell the Swede I
+would ship in the _Golden Bough_.  And I had heard all about the ship,
+too, for if the Knitting Swede was the hero of half the dog-watch
+yarns, the _Golden Bough_ was the heroine of the other half.  I knew of
+the ship, the most notorious blood-ship afloat, and the queen of all
+the speedy clippers.  I knew of her captain, the black-hearted,
+silky-voiced Yankee Swope, who boasted he never had to pay off a crew;
+I knew of her two mates, Fitzgibbon and Lynch, who each boasted he
+could polish off a watch single-handed, and lived up to his boast.  I
+knew of the famous, blood-specked passages the ship had made; of the
+cruel, bruising life the foremast hands led in her.  And I stood before
+the Swede's bar and considered shipping.  Oh, Youth!
+
+For my thoughts were fathered by the vaulting conceit of my nineteen
+years.  Consider . . . a few days before I had for the first time
+assumed a man's estate in sailordom.  Already I was a marked man.  Had
+I not stopped at the Knitting Swede's, and ruffled on equality with the
+hard cases?  Had I not whipped the bully of the beach?  Had I not been
+offered a fighting man's billet by the Swede, himself?  Was not that
+glory?
+
+Then how much greater the glory if I spoke up with a devil-may-care
+lilt in my voice, and shipped in the hottest packet afloat!
+Glory!--why, I would be the unquestioned cock of any foc'sle I
+afterward happened into.  You know, in those days the ambitious young
+lads regularly shipped in the hot clippers; it was a postgraduate
+course in seamanship, and accomplishment of such a voyage gave one a
+standing with his fellows.  I had intended going in one--in the
+_Enterprise_, or the _Glory of the Seas_, both loading in port.  But
+the _Golden Bough_!  No man shipped in her, sober, and unafraid.  If I
+shipped, I should be famous the world around as the fellow who feared
+neither God, nor Devil, nor Yankee Swope and his bucko mates!
+
+So I stood there, half wishful, half afraid, deaf to all save my own
+swirling thoughts.  And there happened that which gave me my decision.
+
+It was the man with the scar.  He had been lounging against the bar, an
+uninterested spectator of the bestowing of the runnership.  Now, my
+eyes fell upon him, and I saw to my surprise that he was shaken out of
+his careless humor.  He was standing tensely on the balls of his feet,
+and his hands were gripping the bar rail so fiercely his fingers seemed
+white and bloodless.  It was apparent some stern emotion wrestled him;
+the profile I saw was set like chiseled marble.  There was something
+indescribably menacing in his poise.  The sight of him jolted my ears
+open to the noises of the room.
+
+The crowd was still talking about the _Golden Bough_.  And the talk had
+progressed, as talk of the _Golden Bough_ always progressed, from
+skipper and mates, to the lady.  They spoke of the ship's mystery, of
+the Captain's lady.  She was a character to pique a sailorman's
+interest, the Lady of the _Golden Bough_.  Her fame was as wide, and
+much sweeter, than the vessel's.  With all their toughs' frankness, the
+crowd were discussing the lady's puzzling relations with Swope.
+
+"Uncommon queer, I calls it," said one chap, who had sailed in the
+ship.  "They call 'em man an' wife, but she lives to port, an' he to
+starboard.  Separate cabins, dash me!  I had it from the cabin boy.
+They even eats separate. . . .  He's nasty to her--I've heard the devil
+snarl at her more than once, when I've had a wheel. . . .  Blank me,
+she's a blessed angel.  There was I with a sprained wrist big as my
+blanked head, an' Lynch a-hazin' me to work--and every morning she
+trips into the foc'sle with her bright cheer an' her linaments.  A
+blanked, blessed angel, she is!"
+
+"He beats her," supplemented another man.  "I got it from a mate what
+chummed with the bloke as was a Sails on her one voyage.  He said, that
+sailmaker did, as how Swope got drunk, and beat her."
+
+The big Cockney, who had been visibly possessed by a pompous
+self-importance since his elevation to the dignity of runner, saw fit
+to interpose his contrary opinion of the Lady of the _Golden Bough_.
+Because the man was vile, his words were vile.
+
+"Blimme, yer needn't worrit abaht Yankee Swope's lydy, as yer call 'er.
+She arn't nah bleedin' lydy--she's just a blarsted Judy.  Yer got to
+knock a Judy abaht, arn't yer?  Hi 'arve hit straight--'e picked 'er
+hoff the streets----"
+
+The man with the scar wheeled on his heel, reached out, and grasped the
+Cockney by his two wrists.  I exclaimed aloud when I saw the man's full
+face.  There was death in it.  He spoke to Cockney in a voice of cold
+fury.  "You lie!" he cried.  "Say you lie!"
+
+Cockney was a big man, and husky.  He cursed, and struggled.  But he
+was a child in the grasp of that white-faced giant towering over him.
+The hands I had seen gripping the rail a moment before, now gripped
+Cockney's wrists in the same terrible clutch.  They squeezed, as though
+to crush the very bones.  Cockney squirmed, and whimpered, then he
+broke down, and screamed in agony.
+
+"Ow, Gaw' blimme, let hup!  Hi never meant northin'!  A lie--  Ow,
+yuss--a lie!  She's a proper lydy--  Hi never 'eard the hother--  Gaw'
+strike me blind!"
+
+The man with the scar cast the fellow contemptuously away; and Cockney
+lost no time in putting the distance of the room between them.  The big
+man turned on the Swede, and his voice was sharp and commanding.
+
+"Swede, does the _Golden Bough_ sail to-morrow?"
+
+"_Ja_, with da flood," the Swede answered.
+
+"Then I ship in her," declared the man.  "I ship in the _Golden Bough_,
+Swede!"
+
+It was the spark needed to fire my own resolution.  What another dared,
+I would dare.  I thumped the bar with my fist and sang out valorously,
+"I ship in her too, Swede!"
+
+The Swede's needles stopped flashing in and out of the gray yarn.  He
+regarded us, one after the other, with his baby stare.  Then he said to
+the big man, "Vat if your frients ship by her?"
+
+"I have no friends," was the curt answer.
+
+The Swede leaned back on his stool, and his big belly quivered with his
+wheezy laughter.  "By Yimminy, Ay tank da _Golden Bough_ haf vun lively
+voyage!" he exclaimed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+We signed articles in the Swede's house, almost within the hour.  A
+little man with a pimply, bulbous nose appeared in the house; he
+carried in his person the authority of Shipping Commissioner and in his
+hand the articles of the _Golden Bough_.  After the careless fashion of
+the day and port we signed on without further ado for a voyage to Hong
+Kong and beyond--sitting at a table in the back room, and cementing the
+contract with a drink around.
+
+The Shipping Commissioner made the usual pretense of reading the
+articles.  Then he squinted up at us.
+
+"What's yer John Henry's?" says he.
+
+My big shipmate mused a moment.  He stroked the scar on his forehead--a
+habit he had when thinking.  He smiled.
+
+"My name is Newman," he made answer.  "It is a good name."
+
+He took the pen from the Shipping Commissioner's hand and wrote the
+name in the proper place upon the articles.  "A. Newman," that is how
+he wrote it.  Not the first time he had clapped eyes upon ship's
+articles, one could see with half an eye.  I wrote my own "John Shreve"
+below his name, with an outward flourish, but with a sinking sensation
+inwardly.
+
+As soon as the ceremony was completed, A. Newman got to his feet,
+refused my pressing invitation to visit the bar, and went upstairs to
+his room.  Now, this seemed very peculiar to my sailor's way of
+thinking; it seemed more peculiar than his choice of a name.  Here we
+were, shipmates, together committed to a high adventure, yet the man
+would not tarry by my side long enough to up-end a schooner to a fair
+passage.  I was to have other surprises before the day was out--the
+mean-faced beggar, and the way in which the Knitting Swede put us on
+board the _Golden Bough_.  Surprising incidents.  But this refusal of
+my new shipmate to drink with me was most surprising.  Think of a
+sailor, a hard case, too, moping alone in his room on the day he
+shipped, when downstairs he could wassail away the day.  I was
+surprised and resentful.  It is hard for a nineteen-year-old man to
+stand alone, and I felt that Newman, my shipmate, should give me the
+moral support of his companionship.
+
+I strutted away the day in lonely glory.  I had not the courage to
+violate the hoary traditions of the foc'sle and join my ship sober, so
+I imbibed as steadily as my youthful stomach permitted.  Towards
+evening I was, as sailors say, "half seas over."
+
+I was mellow, but not befuddled.  I saw things clearly, too clearly.
+Of a sudden I felt an urgent necessity to get away from the Swede's
+barroom.  I wanted to breathe a bit of fresh air, I wanted to shut out
+from my mind the sights and sounds and smells of the groggery, the reek
+and the smut and the evil faces.  Above all, I wished to escape the
+importunities of the little Jewess.  She had gotten upon my nerves.
+Oh, I was her fancy boy to-day, you bet!  I was spending my advance
+money, you see, and this was her last chance at my pocketbook.
+
+So, when opportunity offered, I slipped away from the crowd unobserved,
+and went rolling along East street as though that thoroughfare belonged
+to me.  And in truth it did.  Aye, I was the chesty lad, and my step
+was high and proud, during that stroll.  For men hailed me, and pointed
+me out.  I was the rough, tough king of the beach that hour; I was the
+lad who had whipped the Knitting Swede's bully, and shipped in the
+_Golden Bough_.
+
+Upon a corner, some blocks from the Knitting Swede's house, I came upon
+a fellow who was spitting blood into the gutter.  He was the
+sorriest-looking wretch I had ever seen, the gaunt ruin of a man.  He
+drew his filthy rags about him, and shivered, and prefaced his whine
+for alms with a fit of coughing that seemed to make his bones rattle.
+
+I can't say that my heart went out to the man.  It didn't.  He was too
+unwholesome looking, and his face was mean and sly.  His voice was as
+remarkable as anything about him; instead of speaking words, he whined
+them, through his nose it sounded like, and though his tone seemed
+pitched low, his whine cut through the East street uproar like a sharp
+knife through butter.
+
+Well, he was a pitiful wreck.  On the rocks for good, already breaking
+up and going to pieces.  Without thinking much about it, I emptied my
+pockets of their change.  He pounced upon that handful of silver with
+the avidity of a miser, and slobbered nasal thanks at me.  I was the
+kindest-hearted lad he had met in many a day, he said.
+
+We would have gone our different ways promptly but for a flurry of
+wind.  I suspect that, with the money in his hand, he was as eager to
+see the last of me as I was to see the last of him.  But I felt ashamed
+of my distaste of him; it seemed heartless.  And when the cold wind
+came swooping across from the docks, setting him shivering and
+coughing, I thought of the spare pea-coat I had in my bag.  It was
+serviceable and warm, and I had a new one to wear.
+
+So I carried him back to the Swede's house with me.  I did not take him
+into the barroom, though he brazenly hinted he would like to stop in
+there; but I feared the gibes of the boisterous gang.  This bum of mine
+was such grotesque horror that the drunken wits of the house would not,
+I knew, fail to seize the chance to ridicule me upon my choice of a
+chum.  Besides it was clothes not whisky I intended giving him.
+
+I took him upstairs by the side entrance, the entrance to the
+lodging-house section of the Knitting Swede's establishment.  The house
+was a veritable rookery above the first floor.  I lodged on the third
+floor, in a room overlooking the street, a shabby, dirty little
+cubicle, but one of the choice rooms at the Swede's disposal--for was I
+not spending money in his house?
+
+My companion's complaining whine filled the halls as we ascended the
+stairs.  He was damning the times and the hard hearts of men.  As we
+walked along the hall towards my room, the door of the room next to
+mine opened and the big man, who signed himself Newman, looked out at
+us.  I had not known before that he occupied this room, he was so
+silent and secretive in his comings and goings.
+
+I hailed Newman heartily, but he gave me no response, not even a direct
+glance.  He was regarding the derelict; aye, and there was something in
+his face as he looked at the man that sent a thrill through me.  There
+was recognition in his look, and something else.  It made me shiver.
+As for this fellow with me--he stopped short at first sight of Newman.
+He said, "Oh, my God!" and then he seemed to choke.  He stumbled
+against the banisters, and clung to them for support while his knees
+sagged under him.  He'd have run, undoubtedly, if he had had the
+strength.
+
+"Hello, Beasley," said Newman, in a very quiet voice.  He came out of
+his room, and approached us.  Then this man of mine threw a fit indeed.
+I never saw such fright in a man's face.  He opened his mouth as If to
+scream, but nothing came out except a gurgle; and he lifted his arm as
+if to ward off an expected blow.
+
+But Newman made no move to strike him.  He looked down at him, studying
+him, with his stern mouth cracked into a little smile (but, God's
+truth, there was no mirth in it) and after a moment he said,
+"Surprised?  Eh?  But no more surprised than I."
+
+The poor wreck got some sound out of his mouth that sounded like
+"How--how--" several times repeated.
+
+"And I wanted to meet you more than I can tell," went on Newman.  "I
+want to talk to you--about----"
+
+The other got his tongue to working in a half-coherent fashion, though
+the disjointed words he forced out of his mouth were just husky
+whispers.  "Oh, my God--you!  Not me--oh, my God, not me!--him--he made
+me--it was----"
+
+No more sense than that to his agonized mumbling.  And he got no more
+than that out of him when he choked, and an ugly splotch of crimson
+appeared upon his pale lips.  His knees gave way altogether, and he
+crouched there on the floor, gibbering silently at the big man, and
+plainly terrified clean out of his wits.
+
+Well, I felt out of it, so to speak.  The feeling made me a little
+resentful.  After all, this bum was my bum.
+
+"Look here, the man's sick," I said to Newman.  "Don't look at him like
+that--he'll die.  You've half scared him to death already."
+
+"Oh, no; he'll not die--yet," said Newman.  "He's just a little bit
+surprised at the encounter.  But he's glad to see me--aren't you,
+Beasley?  Stop that nonsense, and get up!"  This last was barked at the
+fellow; it was a soft-voiced but imperative command.
+
+The command was instantly obeyed.  That was Newman for you--people
+didn't argue with him, they did what he said.  I'd have obeyed too,
+just as quickly, if he had spoken to me in that tone.  There was
+something in that man, something compelling, and, besides, he had the
+habit of command in his manner.
+
+So Beasley tottered to his feet, and stood there swaying.  He found his
+tongue, too, in sensible speech.  "For God's sake, get me a drink!" he
+said.
+
+I was glad to seize the cue.  It gave me an excuse to do something.
+
+"I'll get some whisky downstairs," I sang out to Newman, as I moved for
+the stairs.  "Take him into my room; I'll be right back."
+
+But when I returned with the liquor a few moments later, I discovered
+that Newman had taken his prize into his own room.  I heard the murmur
+of voices through the closed door.  But I had rather expected this.
+Half seas over I might be, but I was still clear-witted enough to
+realize that I had accidentally brought two old acquaintances together,
+and that one was pleased at the meeting and the other terrified, and
+that whatever was or had been between the two was none of my business.
+I had no intention of intruding upon them.  But the fellow, Beasley,
+had looked so much in need of the stimulant that I ventured a knock
+upon the door.
+
+Newman opened, and I handed him the bottle without comment.  I could
+see my erstwhile tow sitting upon the bed, slumped in an attitude of
+collapse.  He looked so abject; his condition might have touched a
+harder heart than mine.  But there was no softening of Newman's heart,
+to judge from his face; the little mirthless smile had vanished and his
+features were hard and set.  Aye, and his manner towards me was curt
+enough.
+
+"Thank you; he needs a pick-me-up," he said, as he took the bottle.
+"And now--you'll excuse us, lad."
+
+It wasn't a question, that last; it was a statement.  Little he cared
+if I excused him or not.  He shut the door in my face, and I heard the
+key turn in the lock.
+
+Well, I suppose I should have been incensed by this off-hand dismissal.
+Oh, I was no meek and humble specimen; my temper was only too touchy,
+and besides there was my reputation as a hard case to look to.  But
+strangely enough I did not become incensed; I never thought of kicking
+down the door, I never thought of harboring a grudge.  It wasn't fear
+of the big man, either.  It was--well, that was Newman.  He could do a
+thing like that, and get away with it.
+
+The carousing gang downstairs was more than ever distasteful to me.  I
+went into my own room and lay down upon the bed.  The liquor that was
+in me made me a bit drowsy, and I rather relished the thought of a nap.
+
+But I discovered I was likely to be cheated of even the nap by my next
+door neighbors.  The walls in the Swede's house were poor barriers to
+sounds, and lying there on the bed I suddenly found myself overhearing
+a considerable part of the conversation in the next room.  Newman's
+deep voice was a mere rumble, a menacing rumble, with the words
+undistinguishable, but the beggar's disagreeable whine carried through
+the partition so distinctly I could not help overhearing nearly every
+word he said.  I didn't try to eavesdrop; at the time Beasley's words
+had little interest or meaning for me.  But afterwards, on the ship, I
+had reason to ponder over what he said.
+
+The burden of his speech was to the effect that somebody referred to as
+"he" was to blame.  Aye, trust a rat of that caliber to set up that
+wail.  For some time that was all I got from the words that came
+through the wall.  I wasn't trying to listen; I was drowsing, and
+paying very little attention.
+
+But gradually Beasley's whine grew louder and more distinct.  I suppose
+the whisky was oiling his tongue.   Once he cried out sharply, "For
+God's sake, don't look at me like that!  I'm telling the truth, I swear
+I am!"  The scrape of a chair followed this outburst, and when the
+whine began again it was closer to the wall, and more distinct than
+ever.
+
+"I didn't want to, but he made me.  I had to look out for myself,
+hadn't I?  I had to do what he said.  He had this paper of mine--he
+knew they were forgeries--I had to do what he said.  But, my God, I
+didn't know what he was planning--I swear I didn't!"
+
+Newman's rumble broke in, and then the voluble, reedy voice continued,
+"But he was wild when he came home and found you and Mary so thick, and
+everybody just waiting for the announcement that it was a match.  Why,
+he had the whole thing planned, the very day he arrived.  I know he
+had, because he came to me, in the tavern, and told me I was to drop
+hints here and there through the village that you and Beulah Twigg had
+been seen together in Boston.  I didn't want to, but I had to obey him.
+Why, those checks--he could have put me in prison.  My father would not
+have helped me.  You remember my father--he was ready to throw me out
+anyway.  He never could make allowances for a young fellow's fun.
+
+"He had others dropping hints around.  Trust him to handle a job like
+that.  He was your friend, and Mary's friend--your very best friend,
+and all the time the tongues were wagging behind your back.  Why, it
+was the talk of the town.  You and Beulah Twigg, together in Boston;
+you and Beulah together at sea; you and Beulah--well, you know what a
+story they would make of it in a little town like Freeport.  Mary must
+have heard the gossip about you; the women would tell her.
+
+"But it didn't seem to have any effect.  The two of you were as thick
+as ever.  We were laying bets in the tavern that you would be married
+before you went to sea again.  He didn't like that--the talk about your
+wedding.  But he wasn't beaten yet; he was just preparing his ground.
+Oh, he was a slick devil!
+
+"He came to me one day and said, 'Beasley, give me the key to the Old
+Place--and keep your mouth shut and stay away from there.'
+
+"Now you begin to understand?  The Old Place--that tumble-down old ruin
+of a house all alone out there on the cliffs.  It belonged to my
+father, you remember, but it hadn't been lived in for years.  I had a
+key because we young bloods used the place for card-playing, and high
+jinks.
+
+"I gave him the key.  Why not?  It was a small matter.  He went off to
+Boston--business trip, he said.  I could make a good guess at the
+nature of the business.  Didn't I know his ways?  But I wouldn't blab;
+he owned me body and soul.  I was afraid of him.  His soft voice, his
+slick ways, and what he could do to me if I didn't obey!
+
+"He brought Beulah Twigg back with him from Boston.  Now you
+understand?  Little Beulah--pretty face, empty head, too much heart.
+He owned her body and soul, too.  When folks wondered where she had run
+off to, I could have told them.  I knew how he'd played with her, on
+the quiet, while he sparked Mary in the open--last time he was home.
+You were home then, also.  Remember, you left a day ahead of him, to
+join your ship in New York?  A China voyage, wasn't it?  Well--Beulah
+left the same day.  Just disappeared.  And poor old Twigg couldn't
+understand it.  You remember the old fool?  Beulah was all the family
+he had, and after she skipped out he got to drinking.  They found him
+one morning at the bottom of the cliffs, not a hundred yards from the
+spot where they afterwards found her.
+
+"But I knew what had become of Beulah.  I guessed right.  Didn't I know
+his ways with the girls?  You know there weren't many women who could
+stand out against him.  Mary could, and did--that's why he was so wild
+against you.  But little Beulah--she threw herself at him.  And when
+she ran away, it was to join him in Philadelphia, and go sailing with
+him to South America.
+
+"Now you know how he turned the trick on you, don't you?  But--don't
+look at me like that!  I didn't know what he was doing, I swear I
+didn't!  I thought he just wanted his sweetheart near him, or that she
+insisted on coming, or something like that.  I thought it was devilish
+bold of him, bringing the girl where everybody knew her.  But then, he
+really wasn't taking such a chance, because nobody ever went near the
+Old Place, except upon my invitation, and he drove her over from the
+next township in the night, and she didn't come near the village.  I
+knew, but he knew I wouldn't blab.  My God, no!
+
+"Well, he came to me the next day after he got back from Boston.  'I
+ask a favor of you,' he said to me.  Yes--asking favors, when he knew I
+must do what he said.  Smiling and purring--you remember the pleasant
+manner he had.  'Just a short note.  I know you are handy with the
+pen,' he said.
+
+"What could I do?  I had to look out for myself.  He gave me a page
+from an old letter as a sample of the handwriting.  It was Mary
+Barntree's writing; oh, I knew it well.  I had it perfect in a few
+minutes.  You know--I had a rare trick with the pen in those
+days--before this cough got me, and my hand got shaky.  The note I
+wrote for him was a mere line.  'Meet me at Beasley's Old Place at
+three,' with her initial signed.  That was all.  But he had a sheet of
+her own special note paper for me to write on (no, I don't know where
+he got it!) and of course he knew--like we all knew--how fond the two
+of you were of lovers' walks out on the cliffs.
+
+"Do you remember how you got that note?  Oh, he was a slick devil.  He
+thought of everything.  Abel Horn brought it to you--remember?  He told
+you, with a wink and a grin, that it was from a lady--but he didn't say
+what lady.  Remember?  Well, Beulah had given him the note, and told
+him to say that--not to mention names.  Abel was a good fellow; he
+wouldn't gossip.  _He_ knew that.
+
+"That wasn't the only note he had written.  He made Beulah write one,
+too, addressed to Mary, and asking her to come to the Old Place, and be
+secret about it.  Ah, now you understand?  But--I swear I didn't know
+what he was leading up to.  No, I didn't.  I thought it was--well,
+all's fair in love, you know.  And I had to do what he said, I had to!
+
+"Poor little Beulah had to do what he said, too.  I only feared him,
+but she loved and feared him both.  He owned her completely.  He had
+made her into a regular echo of himself.  She didn't want to, she cried
+about it, but she had to do what he said.
+
+"Mary came, as he knew she would.  Didn't she have the kindest heart in
+the country?  And there he was, with Beulah, with his eyes on her, and
+his soft, sly words making her lie seem more true.  I heard it all.  I
+was upstairs.  He placed me there, in case Mary didn't believe; then I
+was to come in and tell about seeing you and Beulah together in Boston,
+and how she begged me to bring her home.  But--for God's sake!--I
+didn't do it.  I didn't have to.  Mary believed.  How could she help
+believing--the gossip, and poor little Beulah sobbing out her story.
+Beulah said it was you who got the best of her.  She didn't want to say
+it, she faltered and choked on the lie, but _his_ eyes were on her, and
+his voice urged her, and so she had to say it.  The very way she
+carried on made the lie seem true.
+
+"Well, Mary did just what he expected her to do.  She promised to help
+Beulah; she told Beulah she would make you make amends.  Then she
+rushed out of the house and met you coming along the cliff road--coming
+along all spruced up, and with the look about you of one going to meet
+a lady.  Just as _he_ planned.
+
+"What more could Mary ask in the way of evidence than the sight of you
+in that place at that time?  Of course she was convinced, completely
+convinced.  And she behaved just as he knew she would behave--she
+denounced you, and threw your ring in your face, and raced off home.
+And you behaved just as he knew you would behave.  He was a slick
+devil!  He knew your pride and temper; he counted on them.  He knew you
+would be too proud to chase Mary down and demand a full explanation;
+that you would be too angry to sift the thing to the bottom.  You
+packed up and went off to New York that night to join your ship--and
+that was just what he wanted you to do.
+
+"Next morning you were gone, and--they picked up little Beulah at the
+bottom of the cliffs.  And you gone in haste, without a word.   They
+said she jumped--desertion, despair, you know what they would make of
+it.  The gossip--and Abel Horn's tale--and you running away to sea.
+
+"And I--my flesh would creep when I looked at him.  I was certain
+she--didn't jump.  I tell you he was a devil.  There wasn't anything he
+wouldn't do.  He didn't have such a feeling as mercy.  Didn't I find it
+out?  He wanted to get rid of me--and he did.  Before the week was out;
+before Beulah was fairly buried, before Mary was outdoors again.  He
+showed those checks I had signed--and I had to go, I had to go far and
+in a hurry.  After all I had done for him, that's the way he treated
+me."
+
+There was a movement of chairs in the next room, and a scraping of
+feet.  There was more talk, Newman's heavy murmur, and responding
+whines.  But I do not remember what else was said.  In fact, although I
+have given you Beasley's tale in straight-forward fashion, I did not
+overhear it as I tell it.  I caught it in snatches, so to speak, rather
+disconnected snatches which I pieced together afterwards.  I heard this
+fellow, Beasley, talk while lying drowsing on the bed, and not trying
+particularly to understand his words.  In fact, I did drop off to
+sleep.  First thing I knew, the Knitting Swede was shaking me awake.
+"Yump out of it, Yackie," says he.  "We go aboard."
+
+I turned out, shouldered my sea-bag, and went downstairs.  There was
+Newman, with his dunnage, waiting.  He was alone.  There was no sign of
+my beggar about.  In fact, I never saw him again.  Newman's face didn't
+invite questions.
+
+As a matter of fact, I didn't even think of asking him questions.  I
+had forgotten Beasley; I was worrying about myself.  Now that the hour
+had come to join the ship, I wasn't feeling quite so carefree and
+chesty.  I went into the bar, and poured Dutch courage into myself,
+until the Knitting Swede was ready to leave.
+
+We rode down to the dock in a hack.  I was considerably elated when the
+vehicle drew up before the door; It is not every sailorman who rides
+down to the dock in a hack, you bet!  The Swede was spreading himself
+to give us a grand send-off, I thought!  But I changed my mind when we
+started.  The hack was on Newman's account, solely; and he made a quick
+dash from the door to its shelter, with his face concealed by cap and
+pea-coat collar.  He didn't want to be seen in the streets--that is why
+we rode in the hack!
+
+The ride was made amidst a silence that proved to be a wet blanket to
+all my attempts to be jovial, and light-hearted and devil-may-care.
+The Swede slumped in one seat, with our dunnage piled by his side,
+wheezing profanely as the lurching of the hack over the cobblestones
+jolted the sea-bags against him, and grunting at my efforts to make
+conversation.  Newman sat by my side.  Once he spoke.
+
+"You are sure the lady sails, Swede?" was what he said.
+
+"_Ja_, I have it vrom Swope, himself," the crimp replied.
+
+Now, of course, I had already reasoned it out that Newman was sailing
+in the _Golden Bough_ because of the lady aft, and that he had once
+owned some other name than "Newman."  That was as plain as the nose on
+my face.  I didn't bother my head about it; the man's reasons were his
+own, and foc'sle custom said that a shipmate should be judged by his
+acts, not by his past, or his motives.  But I did bother my head about
+his question in the hack--or rather about the Swede's manner of
+replying to it.  It was a little thing, but very noticeable to a sailor.
+
+The Swede's manner towards me was one of genial condescension, like a
+father towards an indulged child.  This was a proper bearing for a
+powerful crimp to adopt towards a foremost hand.  But the Swede's
+manner towards Newman was different.  There was respect in it, as
+though he were talking to some skipper.  It considerably increased the
+feeling of awe I was beginning to have for my stern shipmate.
+
+I supposed we would join the rest of the crew at the dock, and go on
+board in orthodox fashion, on a tug, with drugged and drunken men lying
+around, to be met at the rail by the mates, and dressed down into the
+foc'sle.  Such was the custom of the port.  But when we alighted at
+Meigg's Wharf not a sailor or runner was in sight.  A regiment of
+roosting gulls was in lonely possession of the planking.  The hack
+rattled away; the Swede, bidding us gather up our dunnage and follow
+him, waddled to the wharf edge, and disappeared over the string-piece.
+
+"Why, where is the crew?" I asked of Newman.  "You and I, alone, aren't
+going to sail the ruddy packet?"
+
+"They'll follow later," replied Newman.  "The Swede is going to put us
+two aboard.  He's getting the boat free now."
+
+I stopped stock still.  The constant surprises were rapidly shocking me
+sober, and this last one fairly took my breath for a moment.  The Swede
+was putting us on board!
+
+Now, the King of Crimps didn't put sailormen on board.  He hired
+runners to oversee the disposal of the slaves.  The most he did was
+lounge in the sternsheets of his Whitehall while his retainers rowed
+him out to a ship to interview the captain, and collect his blood
+money.  It was unusual for the Swede to go down to the dock with a
+couple of men; and now, he was going to fasten his lordly hands upon a
+pair of oars and row us out to our vessel!
+
+"Say, what is the idea?" I demanded of Newman.  "We are no flaming
+dukes to be coddled this way!"
+
+Newman placed his hand upon my shoulders.  "What say you call it off,
+lad?" he said.  "That hell-ship yonder is no proper berth for you.
+Take my advice, and dodge around the corner with your bag.  I can fix
+it with the Swede, all right."
+
+I should have liked to have taken the advice, I admit.  I was not in
+nearly such a vainglorious mood as I had been back in the Swede's
+barroom, with the waterfront applauding me.  If Newman had offered to
+dodge around the corner with me, I'd have gone.  The aspect of that
+empty wharf was depressing, and there was something sinister about all
+these unusual circumstances surrounding our joining the ship.  I began
+to feel that there was something wrong about the _Golden Bough_ besides
+her bucko mates, and I possessed the superstitions of my kind.  But
+Newman did not offer to dodge around the corner with me.  He was merely
+advising me, in a fatherly, pitying fashion that my nineteen-year-old
+manhood could not stomach.
+
+"I shipped in her, and I'll sail in her," I told him, shortly.  "I can
+stand as much hell as any man, and I'd join her if I had to swim for
+it.  That flaming packet can't scare me away; I'll take a pay-day from
+her, yet!"  I was bound I'd live up to my reputation as a hard case!  I
+was letting Newman know I was just as proper a nut as himself.
+
+The Swede hailed us from the darkness beyond.  We reached the wharf
+edge, and dimly made out the Swede's huge bulk squatting in a Whitehall
+boat below.  "Yump in!" he bade us.  We tossed our bags down, followed
+ourselves, and a moment later I was bidding farewell to the beach.
+
+The Swede lay back manfully on the oars, grunting with every stroke.
+He was expert; he seemed to make nothing of the inrushing tide, and
+quickly ferried us out into the fairway.  Newman and I sat together in
+the sternsheets, each wrapped in his mantle of dignified silence.  I
+kept my eyes on the black bulk of the vessel we were rapidly nearing,
+and I confess my thoughts were not very cheerful.  One needed jolly
+companions, and more drink inside than I had, to have cheerful thoughts
+when joining the _Golden Bough_.
+
+The Swede lay on his oars when we were a few hundred yards from the
+ship, allowing us to drift down with the tide.  He fumbled about his
+clothes for a moment, and produced a bottle.  "Here, yoongstar, you
+take a yolt!" he commanded, passing me the bottle.
+
+I thought he was just bolstering up my courage, and I was grateful.  I
+swallowed a great gulp of the fiery stuff.  It was good liquor, and
+possessed an added flavor to which I was stranger.
+
+I passed the bottle to Newman; he accepted it, but I noticed he did not
+drink.
+
+The Swede lifted up his voice and hailed the ship.  Immediately, the
+most magnificent fore-topsail-yard-ahoy voice I had ever heard bellowed
+a reply, "Ahoy, the boat!  What d'ye want?"
+
+"That ban Lynch," remarked the Swede to us.  Then he called in reply.
+"Ay ban Swede Olson with two hands for you!  Heave over da Yacob's
+ladder, Mistar Lynch!"  He lay back on his oars, and shot us under the
+quarter.
+
+A moment later the three of us were standing on the clipper maindeck,
+confronting a large man who inspected us with the aid of a lantern.
+Afterwards, I discovered Mister Second Mate Lynch to be a handsome,
+muscular chap, with not so much of the "bucko" in his bearing as his
+reputation led one to expect.  But at the moment I was impressed only
+by his big body and stern face.  In truth, even that impression was
+hazy, for the drink I had taken from the Swede's bottle a moment before
+proved to be surprisingly potent.  No sooner did I set foot upon the
+deck than I commenced to feel a heavy languor overcoming my body and
+mind.
+
+Lynch turned, and his voice rumbled into the lighted cabin alleyway.
+"Oh, Fitz, come here.  Those two jaspers we heard of have come aboard."
+
+A moment later a man came from the cabin and stood by Lynch's side.
+Here was a true bucko, even my addled wits sensed that.  A human
+gorilla, with a battered face and brutal, pitiless mouth--the dreaded
+Fitzgibbon, "chief kicker" of the _Golden Bough_.
+
+Mister "Fitz" regarded us with a sneering smile.  "_Huh_, stewed to the
+gills!  What did you dope 'em with, Swede?" he said.  Then he added to
+Lynch, "Good beef, though.  They'll pull their weight.  Hope there are
+more like them."  He gave his regard to me, looked me up and down
+slowly, and then turned his eyes on Newman.  "Shipped themselves, did
+they?  Two jumps ahead o' the police, I bet!  Lord, what a cargo he's
+got aboard!"
+
+This last referred to Newman.  I was staring at him, myself, with
+stupid surprise, his peculiar antics aiding me to retain a slender
+clutch on my senses.
+
+For Newman was drunk, rip-roaring drunk.  Now mind, he had been cold
+sober a few moments before when I handed him the Swede's bottle, and I
+was quite certain he had not touched that bottle to his lips.  He came
+over the rail with the bottle clutched in his hand, and as soon as he
+touched the deck he was as pickled as any sailor who ever joined a
+ship.  He hung his head, and lurched unsteadily from foot to foot,
+mumbling to himself.  Suddenly he brandished the bottle, and commenced
+to howl, "Blow the Man Down," in a raucous voice.
+
+"Stow that!" commanded Lynch, shortly.  "You'll wake up the lady!"
+
+Newman shut up.  "Vas da lady on board?" asked the Swede, respectfully.
+
+"Yes, and if that jasper rouses her, I'll shove a pin down his gullet!"
+answered Lynch.  "Here you two," he commanded us, "gather up your
+dunnage and get for'rd!"
+
+Newman and I grappled laboriously with our bags.  Fitzgibbon spoke to
+the Swede.  "When does the crew come off?"
+
+"Flood tide," answered the Swede.  "Captain Swope comes with them.  And
+I send a port gang to get you oondar way."
+
+"Hope there are some more huskies like these two," said Lynch.
+
+"_Ja_, day ban all able seamans," declared the Swede.
+
+"You're a filthy liar!" I heard Lynch comment.  But further words I
+lost, for Newman and I went stumbling forward to the forecastle.
+
+We dumped our bags upon the floor, and Newman lighted the lamp.  My
+knees gave way, and I sat down upon the bench that ran around beside
+the tiers of empty bunks.  Then, when the flickering light revealed my
+companion's face, I felt another shock of surprise.
+
+For Newman was sober again.  As soon as he was out of sight of the
+group on the after deck, he dropped his inebriety like a mantle.  The
+face I looked into was alert and hard set, and the eyes gleamed
+strangely as though the man were laboring under a strong, repressed
+excitement.  Newman wore an air of triumph, as though he had just
+accomplished a difficult victory.  My tongue had suddenly become very
+thick, but I managed to mumble a query.  "Say, matey, what's the game?"
+
+He regarded me sharply.  "What's the matter with you, lad?" he
+exclaimed.  He leaned over, pressed up one of my eyelids, and looked
+into my eye.  Then he tilted the bottle he still carried, and wetted
+his laps with the liquor.  "That . . . Swede!  He drugged this bottle!
+Bound to get the blood money for you!"
+
+I didn't answer.  I couldn't, for while Newman was speaking, a
+wonderful thing happened.  He suddenly dwindled in size until he was no
+larger than a manikin, going through the motion of drinking from a tiny
+bottle; while in contrast, his voice increased so tremendously in
+volume it broke upon my ears like a surf upon a beach.  I couldn't
+grasp the miracle.
+
+". . . well, not enough to hurt . . . all right tomorrow . . ."  Newman
+boomed.  Then he picked me up in his arms and deposited me in a bunk.
+He got a blanket out of my bag and spread it over me.  I found
+something very comical about this, though I couldn't laugh as I wished.
+One hard case tucking in another hard case, like a mother tucks in her
+child!
+
+The last thing I saw, or thought I saw, ere oblivion overcrept me, was
+Newman's manikin-sized figure stretching out in a manikin-sized bunk
+opposite.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+My head ached, my tongue was thick and wood-tastey, but I awoke in full
+possession of my faculties.  Even in the brief instant between the
+awakening and the eye-opening, I sensed what was about.
+
+The motion told me the ship was under way.  The noises that had
+probably aroused me, boomed commands, stormed curses, groans, sounds of
+blows, feet stamping--all told me that the mates were turning to the
+crew.  I sat up and looked around.
+
+It had been dark night, and the foc'sle empty, when Newman had tucked
+me in for my drugged siesta.  Now it was broad day, and a bright streak
+of sunlight streaming into the dirty hole through the open door showed
+men's forms sprawled in the bunks about me.
+
+The _Golden Bough_ had a topgallant foc'sle, the port and starboard
+sides divided by a partition that reached not quite to the deck above,
+and which contained a connecting door.  Newman and I had stumbled into
+the port foc'sle the previous night, and as I sat up, I discovered that
+the babel of sound came from the starboard side of the partition.  I
+swung up into the bunk above my head, raised my eyes above the
+partition, and looked down.
+
+I saw Mister Lynch, the second mate, standing in the middle of the
+starboard foc'sle's floor.  He was turning to the crew with a
+vengeance.  His method was simple, effective, but rather ungentle.  His
+long arm would dart into a bunk where lay huddled a formless heap of
+rags.  This heap of rags, yanked bodily out of bed, would resolve
+itself into a limp and drunken man.  Then Mister Lynch would commence
+to eject life into the sodden lump, working scientifically and
+dispassionately, and bellowing the while ferocious oaths in the
+victim's ear.
+
+"Out on deck with you!" he would cry, shaking the limp bundle much as a
+dog would shake a rat.  A sharp clout on either jaw would elicit a
+profane protest from the patient.  The toe of his heavy boot, sharply
+applied where it would do the most good, would produce further
+evidences of life.  Then Lynch would take firm grasp of the scruff of
+the neck and seat of the breeches, and hurl the resurrected one through
+the door onto the deck, and out of range of my vision.  A waspish voice
+streaming blistering oaths proved that Mister Fitzgibbon was welcoming
+each as he emerged into daylight.  Another voice, melodiously
+penetrating the uproar, proved another man was watching the crew turn
+to.  I recognized the silky, musical voice of Yankee Swope.  "Stir them
+up, Mister!  Make them jump!  My ship is no hotel!" is what it said.
+
+The second mate boosted the starboard foc'sle's last occupant
+deckwards; then he paused a moment for a breathing spell.  Next, his
+roving eye rested upon my face blinking down at him from the top of the
+wall.
+
+"Oh, ho--so you have come to life, have you!" he addressed me.  "The
+Swede said you would be dead until afternoon!"
+
+He stepped through the connecting door, into my side of the foc'sle,
+and looked about.  I leaped down from the upper bunk and stood before
+him, feeling rather sheepish at having been discovered spying.
+
+"Where is that big jasper who came aboard with you?" he suddenly
+demanded of me.
+
+"Why;--there!" I replied promptly, indicating the bunk opposite the one
+in which I had slept.
+
+Then, I became aware that Newman was not in that bunk; and a rapid
+survey of the foc'sle showed he was not in any bunk.  He was gone,
+though his sea-bag was still lying on the floor.  The bunk I thought he
+was in contained an occupant of very different aspect from my grim
+companion of the night before.
+
+A short, spare man of some thirty years, wearing an old red flannel
+shirt, was stretched out upon the bare bunk-boards.  Lynch and I
+contemplated him in silence for a moment.
+
+He was no beachcomber or sailor, one could tell that at a glance.  His
+skin had no tan upon it.  It was white and soft.  Obviously, he was no
+inhabitant of the underworld of forecastles and waterside groggeries.
+His white face looked intelligent and forceful even in unconsciousness.
+
+In some way, the man had come by a wicked blow upon the head.  It was
+the cause, I suspected, of his swoon, and stertorous breathing.  Dried
+blood was plastered on the boards about his head, and his thick, dark
+hair was clotted and matted with the flow from his wound.
+
+Lynch leaned over, and opened one of the fellow's loosely clenched
+hands.  It was as white and soft as a lady's hand.
+
+"This jasper is no bum--or sailor!" declared Lynch.  "That damn Swede's
+been up to some o' his tricks.  Well--we'll make a sailor of him before
+we fetch China Sea, I reckon!"  He straightened, and turned on me with
+another demand for Newman.  "Where did you say that big jasper was?"
+
+I shrugged my shoulders helplessly.  I could have sworn Newman had
+turned into that bunk; and I told him so.
+
+Lynch snorted.  "Didn't have the guts to face the music, I reckon, and
+cleared out!  Well, if he tried to swim for it, I'll bet he's feeding
+fishes now!"  His eyes roved around the room.  Several of the bunks
+were occupied by nondescript figures, but Newman's huge bulk did not
+appear.  "Damned seedy bunch," commented Lynch.  "Couldn't afford to
+lose good beef.  Hello--who's this?"
+
+His eyes rested upon the bunk farthest forward, athwartship bunk in the
+eyes.  The body of a big man lying therein loomed indistinctly in the
+gloom of the corner.  Lynch reached the bunk with a bound, and I was
+close behind.
+
+But it was not Newman.  It was--the Cockney!  The very man to whom the
+Swede had tendered the runner's job, the man Newman had manhandled!  He
+lay on his back, snoring loudly, his bloated, unlovely face upturned to
+us.
+
+I laughed.  "It's the runner," I said.  "The Swede's first runner.
+Swede gave him the job yesterday."
+
+"And gave him a swig out of the black bottle last night!" commented
+Lynch.  Then he grasped the significance of the Swede's double cross,
+and his laughter joined mine.  "_Ho, ho_--shanghaied his own runner!
+_Ho, ho_ . . . that damned Swede!"
+
+Then it evidently struck Mister Lynch that he was conducting himself
+with unseemly levity in company with a foremast hand.  His face became
+stern, his voice hard, and my moment of grace was ended.
+
+"Turn to!" he commanded me.  "What are you standing about for?  Get out
+on deck, before I boot you out!"
+
+I knew my place, and I obeyed with alacrity.  As I reached the door,
+his voice held me again for a moment.
+
+"I guess you are a smart lad," says he.  "I'll pick you for my watch,
+if Fitz doesn't get ahead of me.  Got your nerve--shipping in this
+packet!  If you know your work, and fly about it, you'll be all right.
+Otherwise, God help you!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+During my brief communion with Lynch in the foc'sle, I had, of course,
+been conscious of ship work proceeding on deck.  I had been deaf
+otherwise, what with the mate's obscene, shrill voice ringing through
+the ship, and the rattle of blocks, the cries of men, and the tramp of
+their feet as they pulled together.  Now, as I stepped from the foc'sle
+into the bright daylight, I saw just what work was doing.
+
+The vessel was aback on the main, her way lost for the moment.  Abeam,
+a tug was puffing away from us, carrying the port crew--who had lifted
+anchor and taken the _Golden Bough_ to sea--back to San Francisco.  And
+we were fairly to sea; the rugged coast of Marin was miles astern, and
+the Golden Gate was lost in a distant haze.  The voyage was begun.
+
+I saw this at a glance, out of the corners of my eyes, as I ran aft to
+join the crowd.  For I was minded to take the second mate's advice, and
+fly about my work in the _Golden Bough_.  To wait for an order, was, I
+knew well enough, to wait for a blow.  The crowd were already at the
+lee braces, commencing to trim up the yards, and I tailed onto the line
+and threw in my weight, thanking my lucky star that Mister Fitzgibbon
+was too busied with the weather braces to accord my advent on deck any
+other reception than a sizzling oath.
+
+We got the ship under wary, and then jumped to other work.  Mister
+Lynch had flung several more sick, frightened wretches out of the
+foc'sle, and now he joined with the mate in forcible encouragement of
+our efforts.  The port gang had hoisted the yards, and loosed the
+sails, but the upper canvas was ill sheeted, and soon we were
+pully-hauling for dear life.
+
+The best of ships is a madhouse the first day at sea, but the _Golden
+Bough_--God! she was madhouse and purgatory rolled into one!  My own
+agility and knowledge saved me from ill usage for the moment, since the
+mates had plenty of ignorant, clumsy material to work upon.  Such
+material!  I never before or after saw such a welter of human misery as
+on that bright morning, such a crowd of sick, suffering, terrified men.
+Most of them knew not one rope from another, some of them knew not a
+word of English, half of them were still drunk, and stumbled and fell
+as they were driven about, the other half were seasick and all but
+helpless.  Oh, they caught it, I tell you!  The mates were merciless,
+as their reputations declared them to be.  It was sing out an order,
+then knock a man down, jerk him to his feet, thrust a line into his
+hands, and kick him until he bent his weight upon it.  It was bitter
+driving.  But I'll admit it brought order out of chaos.  We cleared the
+decks of the first-day-out hurrah's nest in jig time.  Mercifully, it
+was fair weather, with a light, steady, fair breeze.
+
+I found myself working shoulder to shoulder with a big, trim-bodied
+mulatto.  He was a sailorman, I saw at a glance, and we stuck together
+as much as possible during the morning.  He already bore Fitzgibbon's
+mark in the shape of a raw gash on his forehead, and his blood-specked
+eyes were hot with mingled rage and terror.  He murmured over and over
+again to me, as though obsessed by the words, "Does yoh know where yoh
+am, mate?  Lawd--de _Golden Bough_! de _Golden Bough_!"
+
+There came an ominous flapping of canvas aloft.  "He done gib her too
+much wheel!" said the mulatto to me.  "Lawd help him!"
+
+The black-bearded man who had been lounging over the poop rail watching
+us work, and at whom I had been casting curious and fearful glances as
+I rushed about beneath his arctic glare, now swung about and damned the
+helmsman's eye with soft voiced, deadly words.  The mates' voices
+dropped low, and we listened to Yankee Swope's storm of venomous curses
+with bated breath.
+
+As a man curses so he is.  I learned that truth that morning, a truth
+amply tested by the days that came after.  It was like a book page
+before my eyes, revealing the different characters of the three men who
+ruled our world, by comparison of their oaths.
+
+Now Lynch swore robustious oaths in a hearty voice.  They enlivened
+your legs and arms, for you sensed there was a blow behind the words if
+you lagged.  But they did not rasp your soul.  You knew there was no
+personal application to them.  They were the oaths of a bluff, hard man
+who would drive you mercilessly, but who would none the less respect
+your manhood.  They were the oaths of the boss to the man, and they
+bespoke force.
+
+Fitzgibbon's swearing always sounded dirty.  His curses fell about you
+like a vile shower, and aroused your hot resentment; the same words
+that came clean from Lynch's lips, sounded vile from Fitzgibbon,
+because the man, himself, was bad through and through.  His oaths were
+the oaths of a slave-driver to the slave, and they bespoke cruelty.
+
+But the curses of Captain Swope!  God keep me from ever hearing their
+like again.  They sounded worse than harsh, or vile, they sounded
+inhuman.  The words came soft and melodious from his lips, but they
+were forked with poison and viciousness.  As we of the foc'sle listened
+to him curse the helmsman, that first morning out, each man felt fear's
+icy finger touch the pit of his stomach.  The captain's words horrified
+us, they sounded so utterly evil, and foretold so plainly the suffering
+that was to come to us.
+
+He suddenly cut short his cursing, and turning, caught sight of us, men
+and mates, standing idle by the main fife rail.  "What's this,
+Misters?" he sang out.  "Going asleep on the job?  Rush those
+dogs--rush them!  And send a man aft to the wheel--a sailorman!  This
+damned Dutchman does not know how to steer!"
+
+Those evenly spoken words aroused us to a very frenzy of effort.
+Fitzgibbon struck out blindly at the man nearest him, and commenced to
+curse us in a steady stream.  Lynch reached out and dragged me away
+from the line on which I was heaving.  "Aft with you!" he ordered me.
+"Take the wheel--lively, now!"
+
+Lively it was.  I ran along the lee deck towards the poop, my belly
+griped by the knowledge that the black-bearded man was watching my
+progress.  Nineteen-year-old man I might be, able seaman and hard case,
+but I'll admit I was afraid.  I was afraid of that sinister figure on
+the poop, afraid of the soft voice that cursed so horribly.
+
+It was a little squarehead who had the wheel.  A young Scandinavian, an
+undersized, scrawny boy.  He was pallid, and glazy-eyed with terror, as
+well he might be after facing the Old Man's tirade, and when I took the
+spokes from his nerveless grasp he had not sufficient wit left to give
+me the course.  Indeed, he had not much chance to speak, for Captain
+Swope had followed me aft, and as soon as I had the wheel he commenced
+on the luckless youth.
+
+"You didn't watch her, did you?  Now I'll show you what happens in my
+ship when a man goes to sleep on his job!" he purred.  _Purred_--aye,
+that is the word.  Through his beard I could see the tip of his tongue
+rimming his lips, as he contemplated the frightened boy, much like a
+cat contemplating a choice morsel about to be devoured; and there was a
+beam of satisfaction in his eye.  Oh, it was very evident that Yankee
+Swope was about to enjoy himself.
+
+The poor squarehead cowered backward, and Swope stepped forward and
+drove his clenched list into the boy's face, smashing him against the
+cabin skylights.  The boy cried out with pain and fear, the blood
+gushing from his nose, and, placing his hands over his face, he tried
+to escape by running forward.  Swope, the devil, ran beside him,
+showering blows upon his unprotected head, and as they reached the
+break of the poop he knocked the boy down.  Then he gave him the boots,
+commenced to kick him heavily about the body, while the boy squirmed,
+and pleaded in agonized, broken English for mercy.  It was a brutal,
+revolting exhibition.  I was an untamed forecastle savage, myself, used
+to cruelty, and regarding it as natural and inevitable, but as I stood
+there at the wheel and, watched Yankee Swope manhandle that boy I
+became sick with disgust and rage.  Aye, and with fear, for what was
+happening to the squarehead might well happen to me!
+
+The boy ceased to squirm under the impact of the boots, and his pained
+cries were silenced.  Then the captain ceased his kicking, though he
+did not cease the silky-toned evil curses that slid from his lips.  He
+leaned over the bruised, insensible form, grasped the clothes, and
+heaved the boy clear off the poop, much as one might heave aside a sack
+of rubbish.  So the little squarehead vanished from my ken for the time
+being, though I heard the thud of his body striking the deck below.
+
+Swope stood looking down at his handiwork for a moment; then he swung
+about and came aft, brushing invisible dirt from his clothes as he
+walked.  When he drew near, I saw his eyes were bright with joyous
+excitement; yes, by heaven, Captain Swope was happy because of the work
+he had just done; he was a man who found pleasure in inflicting pain
+upon others!  He paused at my side, glanced sharply at me, then aloft
+at the highest weather leech, for I was steering full and by.  But he
+found no cause for offense, and after damning my eye to be careful, he
+turned away and commenced pacing up and down.  I was in a furious rage
+against the man.  But when he looked at me my knees felt weak, and I
+answered his words respectfully and meekly indeed.  God's truth, I was
+afraid of him!
+
+Oh, it was not his size.  Yankee Swope was only of medium build; I was
+much the better man physically, and could have wiped the deck with him
+in short order--though, of course, a quick death would have rewarded
+any such attempt upon the master of the _Golden Bough_.  Nor was his
+face ill to look at.  Indeed, he had a handsome face, though beard and
+mustache covered half of it, and there was a peculiar and disturbing
+glitter in his black eyes.  Some of my fear was caused, I think, by the
+sinister softness of his voice.  But most of it was caused by the
+impression the man, himself, gave--call it personality, if you like.
+It was much like the impression of utter recklessness that Newman gave,
+only in Yankee Swope's case it was not recklessness, but utter
+wickedness.  An aura of evil seemed to cling about him, he walked about
+in an atmosphere of black iniquity that was horrifying.  Any foremast
+hand would look after Yankee Swope and say, "There--he's sold his soul
+to the Devil!  He's a bad one, a real bad one, and no mistake!"
+
+So I looked after him, and thought, while he paced the poop, and I held
+the wheel.  "You're in for it, Shreve!" I thought.  "This packet is so
+hot she sizzles, and this Old Man is a bad egg, and no fatal error!
+There will be bloody, sudden death before this passage is ended, or I'm
+a ruddy soldier!"
+
+Standing there at the wheel, with one eye upon Captain Swope and the
+other upon my work, I found I owned a full measure of rueful thoughts.
+The _Golden Bough_ was an eye-opener to me, used though I was to hard
+ships and hard men.  I wished I had not shown myself such a hard case
+back there in the Swede's.  I cursed myself for the vainglorious fool I
+was for having put myself in such a hole.  The only rift in my cloud of
+gloom was Lynch; the second mate seemed favorably disposed towards me,
+I reflected, and had promised to choose me for his watch.  He said I
+would be safe if I jumped lively to my work.  I promised myself to do
+that same, for I foresaw a cruel fate for the malingering man aboard
+that vessel.
+
+From Lynch, my thoughts naturally jumped to Newman.  What had become of
+him?  Deserted, as Lynch had declared?  Developed a craven streak, and
+cleared out?  No.  My grim, reserved companion of the night before had
+had some strong, secret purpose in joining the _Golden Bough_; if he
+had deserted, I knew it was in obedience to that same hidden purpose,
+and not from fear of ship or officers.
+
+It was while I was speculating about Newman's disappearance that Mister
+Lynch came aft and reported that fact to the Old Man, in my hearing.
+"We have them all hustling except two," he told Swope.  "One jasper the
+Swede dosed with his black bottle, and another one who has been
+sandbagged.  I'll have them on deck by muster.  A damned seedy bunch,
+taken by and large, Captain.  We're one hand shy!"
+
+"What's that?  One hand shy?" exclaimed Swope, sharply.
+
+"Yes, sir; cleared out, I expect.  Came on board last night--one of the
+two the Swede told us about, who picked the ship themselves.  There's
+one of them at the wheel.  But the other one, the big one, was gone
+this morning.  Best looking beef of the entire lot, too.  Good
+sailorman, or I'm a farmer; looked like an officer down on his luck."
+
+Swope turned to me.  "Where is the fellow who came on board with you?"
+he demanded.
+
+"I don't know, sir," I replied.  "He had disappeared when I woke up
+this morning."
+
+"_Huh_!  Sounds fishy!" was his response.  "Don't lie to me, my lad, or
+I'll wring your neck for you!"  He stood silent a moment, opening and
+shutting his fingers, just as though he were turning the matter over in
+the palms of his hands.  Then he cursed.
+
+"You searched about for'ard for him?" he asked Lynch.
+
+"Yes, sir; he isn't on board," the second mate answered.
+
+"Then why are you bothering me?" the Old Man wanted to know.  "If the
+swab is gone, he's gone.  Drive the rest of them the harder to make up
+for his loss!"
+
+He resumed his pacing of the poop, while Lynch went forward.
+
+I was well enough pleased by the ending of the incident.  For a moment
+I had feared the captain would blame me for Newman's absence.  With the
+little squarehead's fate fresh in my mind I had no desire to foul
+Yankee Swope's temper.
+
+But I could not help thinking about Newman.  His going was a mystery,
+and, moreover, I was sorry to see the last of him.  I wondered why he
+had not stayed.  It was not fear that made him clear out; of that I was
+certain.  What then?  The lady?
+
+I began to think about the _Golden Bough's_ lady.  To think of Newman
+was to think of her.  I was sure she had drawn him on board the ship.
+Had she, then, sent him packing ashore, while I slept?  What was he--a
+discarded lover?  Was she the lass in the beggarman's yarn?  Had he
+shipped so he might worship his beloved from the lowly foc'sle?  Or was
+he seeking vengeance?  Oh, I read my Southworth and Bulwer in those
+days, and had some fine ideas regarding the tender passion.  I felt
+sure there was some romantic heart-bond between Newman and the lady.
+
+I wondered if the lady were really so lovely, possessed of such
+goodness of heart, as glowing foc'sle report declared.  Was she really
+an incarnate Mercy in this floating hell?  Did she really go forward
+and bind up the men's hurts?  Why did she not show herself on deck this
+fine morning?  I wanted to see this angel who was wedded to a devil.
+
+I heard her voice first, ascending through the skylight.  It thrilled
+me.  Not the words--she was but giving a direction to the Chinese
+steward--but the rich, sweet quality of the voice.  I, the foc'sle
+Jack, whose ears' portion was harsh, bruising oaths, felt the feminine
+accents as a healing salve.  They stirred forgotten memories; they sent
+my mind leaping backwards over the hard years to my childhood, and the
+sound of my mother's voice.  No wonder; I had scarce once heard the
+mellow sound of a good woman's voice since I ran away to sea five years
+before, only the hard voices of hard men, and, now and then, the shrill
+voice of some shrew of the waterside.
+
+She ascended from the cabin, and stepped out upon deck, and, as if
+moving as far as possible from the harsh voices forward, came aft and
+stood near the wheel.  And at the first glance, I knew that foc'sle
+report of the lady was not overdrawn, that the most glowing description
+did ill justice to her loveliness.
+
+Her age?  Oh, twenty-four, perhaps.  Beautiful?  Aye, judged by any
+standard.  But it was not her youth, or the trimness of her figure, or
+the mere physical beauty of her features that touched the hearts, and
+made reverent the voices of rude sailormen.  No; it was something
+beyond, something greater, than the flesh that commanded our homage.
+
+Once since have I seen a face that was like the face of Captain Swope's
+wife--in a great church in a Latin country.  It was a painting of the
+Madonna, and the master who had painted it had given the Mother's face
+an expression of brooding tenderness as deep as the sea, an expression
+of pity and sympathy as wide as the world.  You felt, as you looked at
+the picture, that the artist must have known life, its sufferings and
+sins.
+
+It was a like expression in the face of the Captain's lady.  She was no
+pretty lass whose sweet innocence is merely ignorance.  She was a woman
+who had looked upon life; you felt that she had faced the black evil
+and hideous cruelty in a man's world, and that she understood, and
+forgave.  You felt her soul had passed through a fierce, white heat of
+pain, and had emerged burned clean of dross, free of all petty rancor
+or hatred.  It glowed in her face, this wide understanding and
+sympathy, looked from her eyes, and sounded in her voice, and it was
+this that won the worship of the desperate men and broken derelicts who
+peopled the _Golden Bough's_ forecastle.
+
+Hair?  Oh, yes, she had hair, a great mass of it piled on her head,
+black hair.  Eyes?  Her eyes were blue, not the washed out blue of a
+morning sky, but the changing, mysterious purple-blue of deep water.
+She turned those wonderful eyes upon me, as I stood there at the wheel,
+and the red blood flushed my cheeks, while the mask of cynical hardness
+I had striven so hard to cultivate fled from my face.  She saw through
+my pretence, did the lady, she saw me as I really was, a boy playing
+desperately at being such a man as my experience had taught me to
+admire.  I was abashed.  I was no longer a hard case with those
+pitying, understanding eyes upon me.  I was like a lad detected in a
+mischief, facing my mother.
+
+She had heard some talk in the cabin, or perhaps she had overheard
+Lynch's report to the Old Man, for her words showed she knew me as one
+of the men who had shipped in the vessel of my own will.  "Why--you are
+only a boy!" she said, in a surprised voice.  Then her face seemed to
+diffuse a sweet sympathy and understanding.  I can't explain it, but I
+knew that the lady knew just why I had shipped.  She looked inside of
+me, and read my heart--and _understood_!  "Oh, Boy, why did you do it?"
+she exclaimed softly.  "It is not worth it--why did you come!
+Listen!--do not give offense; whatever they do, show no resentment.
+Oh, they are hard--forget your pride, and be willing!"
+
+She seemed about to say more, but Captain Swope interrupted.  When she
+appeared on deck, he affected not to see her; he had paced past her
+twice, but not by the quiver of an eyelash had he shown himself aware
+of her presence.  Now he suddenly paused nearby.  Perhaps his sailor's
+sense of fitness was ruffled by the sight of her in conversation with
+the man at the wheel; or, more likely, his eye had noted the scene
+occurring forward, and he wished to force it upon her attention,
+because it would cause her pain.
+
+"Ah, madam, commencing your good works so soon?" he remarked, in a
+soft, sneering voice.  "Well, from all signs for'ard, you had better
+overhaul your medicine chest.  You will have a patient or two to
+sniffle over to-morrow morning."
+
+The lady shuddered ever so slightly at Swope's words, and her features
+contracted, as though with pain.  Just for an instant--then she was
+serenity again, and she gazed forward, as Swope bade, and silently
+watched the mates at their work.
+
+They were manhandling, of course.  I might have found humor in the
+scene had not the lady just stirred the softer chords of my being.
+Away forward, by the foc'sle door, Mister Lynch was engaged in dressing
+down the Cockney.  This was not a particularly interesting exhibition,
+though, for although the Cockney showed fight, he was clearly
+outmatched, and arose from the deck only to be knocked down again.
+
+But, by the main hatch was a more interesting spectacle.  There, Mister
+Fitzgibbon was busied with the spare, red-shirted man, he of the
+intelligent face and gashed skull, the man I had found so mysteriously
+occupying the bunk Newman had gone to bed in, and who, Lynch declared,
+was neither sailor, nor bum.  There on the poop, we could not overhear
+the small man's words for Mister Fitz's shrill cursing, but he seemed
+to be expostulating with the mate.  And he seemed intent on forcing
+past the mate and coming aft.  He would try to run past the hatch, and
+Fitzgibbon would punch him and send him reeling backwards.  Even as we
+watched, the mate seized him by the collar of his red shirt, slammed
+him up against the rail, and then, with a belaying pin, hazed him
+forward at a run.
+
+I heard the lady sigh--and Swope chuckled.  Then I noticed she was
+staring fixedly at the side of the cabin skylight.  A few drops of the
+blood the Old Man had drawn from the little squarehead were splattered
+upon the woodwork and the deck.  Silently, she regarded them, and her
+slight figure seemed to droop a bit.  Then, with a queer little shrug,
+she squared her shoulders, and faced the Captain with up-tilted
+chin. . . .  Aye, and I sensed the meaning of that little shrug, and
+the squared shoulders.  It meant that she had picked up her Cross, and
+that she would courageously bear it in pain and sorrow through the dark
+days of the coming voyage.  For I truly believe the lady suffered
+vicariously for every blow that bruised a sailor's flesh on board the
+_Golden Bough_!
+
+"Yes, I must look to my medicines," she replied to Swope.  "I see they
+will be required."  There was no active hate in her voice, or in her
+eyes, but she looked at the man much as one looks at some loathsome yet
+inevitable object--a snake, or a toad.  And she turned away without
+further words, and descended to the cabin.  Swope watched her departure
+with a half smile parting his beard and mustache.  Oh, how I longed to
+be able to wipe that sneer from his mouth with my clenched fist!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+The Cockney relieved me at the wheel, at one bell, when the mates
+turned the crowd to after a short half hour for dinner.  Oh, what a
+changed Cockney from yestereve!  He came slinking meekly along the lee
+side of the poop.  When he took over the wheel he had hardly spirit
+enough in him to mumble over the directions I gave him.  His eyes were
+puffed half closed, and his lips were cut and swollen.  Gone was the
+swanking, swaggering Cockney who had paraded before the Swede's bar.
+Instead there was only this cowed, miserable sailorman taking over the
+wheel.  That Cockney had suffered a cruel double cross when he drank of
+the black bottle, and was hoisted over the _Golden Bough's_ rail.
+Yesterday he was a great man, the "Knitting Swede's" chief bully, with
+the hard seafare behind him, and with unlimited rum, and an easy, if
+rascally, shore life ahead of him.  To-day he was just a shell-back
+outward bound, with a sore head and a bruised body; a fellow sufferer
+in the foc'sle of a dreaded ship, mere dirt beneath the officers' feet.
+Such a fall!  Keenly as I had disliked the man yesterday, to-day I was
+sorry for him.  The more sorry because I felt that the Jocose Swede had
+come near having me as the butt of his little joke, instead of Cockney.
+
+I scurried forward, intent upon dinner.  I drew my whack from the
+Chinaman in the gallery, and bolted it down in the empty foc'sle.  It
+was a miserable repast, a dish of ill-cooked lobscouse, and a pannikin
+of muddy coffee, and I reflected glumly that I had joined a hungry ship
+as well as a hot one.
+
+I finished the last of that mysterious stew, and then filled and
+lighted my pipe.  I felt sure I would be allowed the half hour dinner
+spell the rest of the crowd had enjoyed, and I relaxed and puffed
+contentedly, determined to enjoy my respite to the last minute.  For
+the sounds from the deck indicated a lively afternoon for all hands.
+But something occurred to interrupt my cherished "Smoke O," something
+that caused me to sit up suddenly and stiffly on the bench, while my
+pipe fell unheeded from my slackened mouth, and an unpleasant prickle
+ran over my scalp and down my spine.
+
+I have already mentioned that the _Golden Bough_ had a topgallant
+forecastle; that is, the crew's quarters were away forward, in the bows
+of the ship, beneath the forecastle head.  It was a gloomy cavern; the
+bright day of outdoors was a muddy light within.
+
+Well, in the floor of the port foc'sle, wherein I was sitting, was the
+hatch to the forepeak, below.  It was this yard square trap-door which
+caused my agitation.  My glance fell casually upon it, and I saw it
+move!  It lifted a hair's breadth, and I heard a slight scraping sound
+below.
+
+Aye, I was startled!  A rat?  But I knew that even a ship rat did not
+grow large enough to move a trap-door.  The ghost of some dead
+sailor-man, haunting the scene of his earthly misery?  Well, I had the
+superstitions of a foc'sle Jack, but I knew well enough that a proper
+ghost would not walk abroad in the noon o' day.  I stared fascinated at
+that moving piece of wood.  It slowly lifted about an inch, and then,
+through the narrow slit; I saw an eye regarding me with a fixed glare.
+I glared back, my amazement struggling with the conviction that was
+oversweeping me; and then, just as I was about to speak, Bucko Lynch's
+voice came booming into my retreat.
+
+"_Hey_, you!  D'you reckon to spell-o the whole afternoon?  If you've
+finished your scouse, out on deck with you--and lively about it!"
+
+There was no denying that request, eye or no eye.  And at the second
+mate's first word, the trap door dropped shut, I clattered out of the
+foc'sle, and to work; but I was turning that little matter of the
+forepeak hatch over in my mind, you bet!
+
+It was near dusk, well on in the first dog-watch, when the mates let up
+with their driving, and herded all hands aft to the main deck.  The
+forepeak hatch had rested heavily upon my mind all afternoon, and I was
+tingling with excitement when I went aft with the rest to face the
+ceremony which always concludes the first day out, the choosing and
+setting of the watches, and the calling of the muster roll.  Something
+unexpected was about to happen, I felt sure.
+
+We were a sorry looking crowd gathered there on the main deck, before
+the cabin, a tatterdemalion mob, with bruised bodies and sullen faces,
+and with hate and fright in our glowering eyes.  Those few of us who
+were seamen possessed a bitter knowledge of the cruel months ahead, the
+rest, the majority, faced a fate all the more dreadful for being dimly
+perceived, and of which they had received a fierce foretaste that
+merciless day.
+
+Captain Swope came to the break of the poop, lounged over the rail, and
+looked us over.  In his hand he held the ship's articles.  He regarded
+us with a sort of wicked satisfaction, seeming to draw delight from the
+sight of our huddled, miserable forms.  Without saying a word, he
+gloated over us, over the puffed face of the Cockney, over the
+expression of desperate horror in the face of the red-shirted man, over
+the abject figure of the little squarehead, who had been going about
+all afternoon sobbing, with his hand pressed to his side, and whose
+face was even now twisted with a pain to which he feared to give voice.
+Aye, Swope stared down at us, licking his chops, so to speak, at the
+sight of our suffering; and we glared back at him, hating and afraid.
+
+Then the lady appeared at the poop rail, some paces distant from the
+Old Man.  It was heartening to turn one's eyes from the Old Man's
+wicked, sneering face to the face of the lady.  There was sorrow in
+that brooding look she gave us, and pity, and understanding.  She was
+used to looking upon the man-made misery of men, you felt, and skilled
+in softening it.  There was a stir in our ranks as we met her gaze, a
+half audible murmur ran down the line, and the slackest of us
+straightened our shoulders a trifle.  The Old Man sensed the sudden
+cheer amongst us, and, I think, sensed its cause, for without glancing
+at the lady, he drawled an order to the mate, standing just below him.
+
+"Well, Mister Fitz, start the ball rolling--your first say."
+
+The mate allowed his fierce, pig eyes to rove over us, and to my secret
+delight he passed me by.  "Where's the nigger?" he said, referring to
+the mulatto, who was at the wheel.  "The wheel?  Well, he's my meat."
+
+So the watch choosing began.  Lynch promptly chose me, as he had
+promised he would, and I stepped over to the starboard deck.
+Fitzgibbon chose the Cockney, Lynch picked a squarehead--so the
+alternate choosing went, the mates' skilled eyes first selecting all
+those who showed in their appearance some evidence of sailorly
+experience.
+
+"You!" said Fitzgibbon, indicating the red-shirted man, and motioning
+him over to the port side of the deck.
+
+The red-shirted man, whose agitated face I had been covertly watching,
+instead of obeying the mate, stepped out of line and appealed to Swope.
+"Captain, may I speak to you now?" he asked, in a shrill, excited voice.
+
+"_Eh_, what's this?" exclaimed Swope, gazing down at the fellow.  He
+lifted his hand and checked the mate, who was already about to collar
+his prey.  I think Swope knew just what was coming, and he found sport
+in the situation.  "What do you want, my man?" his soft voice inquired.
+
+A flood of agitated words poured out of the red-shirted man's mouth.
+"Captain--a terrible mistake--foully mistreated, all of these men
+foully mistreated by your officers--tried to see you and was
+beaten. . . ."  With an effort he made his speech more coherent.  "A
+terrible mistake, sir!  I have been kidnapped on board this vessel!  I
+am not a sailor, I do not know how I come to be here--I have been
+kidnapped, sir!"
+
+"How terrible!" said Swope.  "I do not doubt your word at all, my man.
+Anyone can see you are no sailor, but a guttersnipe.  And possibly you
+were--er--'kidnapped,' as you call it, in company with the wharf-rats
+behind you."
+
+"But, Captain--good heavens, you do not understand!" cried the man.  "I
+am a clergyman--a minister of the Gospel!  I am the Reverend Richard
+Deaken of the Bethel Mission in San Francisco!"
+
+The Reverend Richard Deaken!  I saw a light.  I had heard of the
+Reverend Deaken while I was in the Swede's house.  The labors of this
+particular sky-pilot were, it appeared, particularly offensive to
+crimpdom.  He threatened to throw a brickbat of exposure into the camp.
+He was appealing to the good people of the city to put a stop to the
+simple and effective methods the boarding masters used to separate Jack
+from his money, and then barter his carcass to the highest bidder.  I
+had heard the Swede, himself, say, "Ay ban got him before election!"
+And this is how the reverend gentleman had been "got"--crimped into an
+outward bound windjammer, with naught but a ragged red shirt and a pair
+of dungaree pants to cover his nakedness; and he found, when he made
+his disclosure of identity, that the high place of authority was
+occupied by a man who enjoyed and jeered at his evil plight.
+
+For, at the man's words, the Old Man threw back his head and laughed
+loudly.  "_Ho, ho, ho_!  D'ye hear that, Misters?  The Swede has given
+us a sky-pilot--a damned Holy Joe!  By God, a Holy Joe on the _Golden
+Bough_!  _Ho, ho, ho_!"  Then he addressed the unfortunate man again.
+"So you are a Holy Joe, are you?  You don't look it!  You look like an
+ordinary stiff to me!  Let me see--what did you call yourself?
+Deaken?"  He lifted the articles, and scanned the names that
+represented the crew.  "Deaken--_hey_!  Well, I see no such name
+written here."  I did not doubt that.  Save my name, and Newman's, I
+doubted if any name on the articles could be recognized by any man
+present.  "I see one name here, written in just such a flourishing hand
+as a man of your parts might possess--- 'Montgomery Mulvaney.'  That is
+undoubtedly you; you are Montgomery Mulvaney!"
+
+"But, Captain--" commenced the parson, desperately.
+
+"Shut up!" snapped Swope.  "Now, listen here, my man!  You may be a
+Holy Joe ashore, or you may not be, that does not concern me.  But I
+find you on board my vessel, signed on my articles as 'Montgomery
+Mulvaney, A.B.'  Yet you tell me yourself you are no sailor.  Well, my
+fancy man, Holy Joe you may be, stiff you are, but you'll be a sailor
+before this passage ends, or I'm not Angus Swope!  Now then, step over
+there to port, and join your watch!"
+
+"But, Captain--" commenced the desperate man again.  Then he evidently
+saw the futility of appealing to Captain Swope.  Abruptly, he turned
+and addressed the lady.
+
+"Madam--my God, madam, can you not make him understand----"
+
+The lady shook her head, frowned warningly, and spoke a soft, quick,
+sentence.  "No, no--do not protest, do as they say!"  Well she knew the
+futility of argument, and the danger to the one who argued.  Indeed,
+even while she spoke, the mate took the parson by his shirt collar, and
+jerked him roughly into his place.  And there he stood, by the
+Cockney's side, wearing an air of bewildered dismay both comic and
+tragic.
+
+The mates renewed their choosing, and in a few more moments we were all
+gathered in two groups, regarding each other across the empty deck.
+There were fifteen men in the mate's watch, but, because of Newman's
+absence, only fourteen had fallen to Lynch.
+
+The Old Man handed down the articles to Mister Lynch.  "All right,
+Mister, muster them," he said.  "And (addressing us generally) if you
+don't recognize your names, answer anyway--or we'll baptize you anew!"
+
+Lynch held the papers before his face.   I thrilled with a sudden
+expectancy.   Something startling was going to happen, I felt it in my
+bones.  Some clairvoyant gleam told me the forepeak hatch was wide open
+now.
+
+"Answer to your names!" boomed Lynch's great voice.  "A. Newman!"
+
+"Here!" was the loud and instant response.
+
+As one man, we swung our heads, and looked forward.  Sauntering aft,
+and just passing the main hatch, was the man with the scar.  He came
+abreast of us, and paused there in the empty center of the deck.
+
+It was the lady, on the poop above, who broke the spell of silence the
+man's dramatic arrival had placed upon all hands.  She broke it with a
+kind of strangled gasp.  "Roy--it is Roy--oh, God!" she said, and she
+swayed, and clutched the rail before her as though to keep from
+falling.  She stared down at Newman as if he were a ghost from the
+grave.
+
+But it was the manner of Captain Swope which commanded the attention of
+all hands.  He was seeing a ghost, too, an evil ghost.  It was like
+foc'sle belief come true--this man had sold his soul to the Devil, and
+the Devil was suddenly come to claim his own.  He, too, stared down at
+Newman, and clutched the rail for support, while the flesh of his face
+became a livid hue, and his expression one of incredulous horror.
+
+"Where have you come from?" he said in a shrill, strained voice.
+
+Newman's clothes and face were smutted with the grime from the peak,
+but his air was debonair.  He answered Captain Swope airily.  "Why--I
+come just now from your forepeak--a most unpleasant, filthy hole,
+Angus!  And less recently, I come from my grave, from that shameful
+grave of stripes and bars to which your lying words sent me, Angus!
+I've come to pay you a visit, to sail with you.  Why, I'm on your
+articles--I am 'A. Newman.'  An apt name, a true name--_eh_, Angus?
+Come now, are you not glad to see me?"
+
+It was unprecedented, that occurrence.  A foremast hand badgering the
+captain on his own poop deck; badgering Yankee Swope of the _Golden
+Bough_, whilst his two trusty buckos stood by inactive and gaping.
+But, as I explained, there was an air about Newman that said "Hands
+off!"  It was not so much his huge, muscular body; there was something
+in the spirit of the man that was respect-compelling; something lethal,
+a half-hidden, over-powering menace; something that overawed.  He was
+no foc'sle Jack, no commonplace hard case; as he stood there alone, he
+had the bearing of a man who commanded large ships, who directed great
+affairs.  And his bearing held inactive and over-awed those two
+fighting mates, while he mocked their god, Swope.
+
+And Swope!  The man became craven before Newman's upturned gaze.  He
+was palsied with fear, stark fear.  I saw the sweat beads glistening on
+his brow.  He lifted a shaking hand and wiped them off.  Then he
+suddenly turned and strode aft, out of our view, without a parting word
+to the mates, without even the time honored, "Below, the watch."  In
+the quiet that was over us, we heard his footsteps as he walked aft.
+They were uncertain, like the footsteps of a drunken man.  We heard
+them descend to the cabin.
+
+Newman turned his gaze upon the lady.  She stood there, clutching the
+rail.  Her body seemed frozen into the attitude.  But her face was
+alive.
+
+Yes, alive--and not with fear or horror.  There was a delight beyond
+the powers of description shining in her face.  There was incredulity,
+with glad conviction overcoming it.  Her eyes glowed.  Her heart was in
+her eyes as she looked at Newman.
+
+Newman spoke, and his voice was rich and sweet, all its harsh menace
+gone.
+
+"I have come, Mary," says he.
+
+She did not reply with words.  But they looked at each other, those
+two, and although there were no more words, yet we gained the
+impression they were communing.  Men and mates, we gaped, curious and
+tongue-tied.  This was something quite beyond us, outside our
+experience.  Bully Fitzgibbon, across the deck from me, pulled wildly
+at his mustache, and every movement of his fingers betrayed his
+bewilderment.
+
+For what seemed a long time the man and the woman stood silent,
+regarding each other.  The dusk, which had been gathering, crept upon
+us.  The lady's face lost its clear outline, and became shadowy.
+Suddenly she turned and flitted aft.  We listened to her light
+footsteps descending to the cabin, as, a short while before, we had
+listened to the Old Man's.
+
+When sound of her had ceased, Newman, without being bidden, stepped to
+the starboard side and fell into line beside me.
+
+The mate finally broke the awkward silence.  Lack of the usual sting
+from his voice showed how the scene had shaken him.
+
+"Well--carry on, Mister!" he said to Lynch.  "Finish the mustering."
+
+The second mate read off the list of names.  With the single exception
+of myself, not a man responded with the usual "Here, sir."  Not a man
+recognized his name among those called; a circumstance not to be
+wondered at, for the list was doubtless made up of whatever names
+happened to pop into the Knitting Swede's mind.  But the mates did not
+care about responses.  As soon as Lynch was finished, Fitzgibbon
+commanded shortly, "Relieve wheel and lookout.  Go below, the watch."
+
+We of the starboard watch went below.  Newman came with us, and he
+walked as he afterwards walked and worked with us, a man apart.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+A man apart Newman was.  We instinctively recognized that fact from the
+beginning.  When we had gained the foc'sle, the rage in our hearts
+found expression in bitter cursing of our luck, the Swede, the ship and
+the officers.  But Newman did not curse, nor did we expect him to.  We
+sensed that he was glad he was at sea in the _Golden Bough_, that he
+was there for some peculiar purpose of his own.  He was, of course, the
+dominant personality in the foc'sle, indeed, in the ship.  But,
+strangely enough, we did not look to him for leadership.  We regarded
+him curiously, and with awe and some fear, but we did not look to him
+to lead the watch.  We felt he was not one of us.  His business on the
+ship was not our business, his aim not our aim.
+
+Because of this aloofness of Newman, I suddenly found myself occupying
+the proud position of cock of the starboard watch.  A foc'sle must have
+its leading spirit, and the cockship is a position much coveted and
+eagerly striven for in most ships, decided only after combat between
+the fighting men of the crew.  But the _Golden Bough_ had an
+extraordinary crew.  The majority of the men in my watch were just
+stiffs, who possessed neither the experience nor desire to contest for
+leadership.  The few seamen, besides myself and Newman, were
+squareheads, quiet peasants of Scandinavia and Germany, who felt lost
+and unhappy without somebody always at hand to order them about.
+
+So, within half an hour after going below for that first time, I found
+myself giving orders to men and being obeyed.  They were the first
+orders I had ever given, and, oh, they were sweet in my mouth!  Think
+of it, my last ship I had been ordered about by the foc'sle cock.  I
+had gone to the galley at command and fetched the watch's food.  Now,
+scant days after, I, a fledgling able seaman, was lording it over the
+foc'sle of the hottest ship on the high seas, and ordering another man
+to go after the supper.  And he went.  I think I grew an inch during
+that dog-watch; I know my voice gained a mature note it lacked before.
+
+I was a true son of the foc'sle, you must understand, with the habits
+and outlook of a barbarian.  This leadership I so casually assumed may
+appear a petty thing, but it was actually the greatest thing that
+happened to me since birth.  This little savage authority I commenced
+to exercise over my companions by virtue of the threat of my fists, was
+my first taste of power.  It awakened in me the driving instinct, the
+desire to lead, and eventually placed me in command of ships; it also
+gave me my first sense of responsibility, without which there can be no
+leadership.
+
+During the supper, and after, I found myself watching and studying my
+companions.  For I feared that my youth might later cause someone to
+question my cockship, and I meant to fight for it in that event.  But
+my scrutiny satisfied my natural confidence.  There was no man in my
+watch I could not handle in either a rough-and-tumble or stand-up go, I
+thought, with the exception of Newman.  He would not interfere with
+me--his interest lay aft, in the cabin, not in the foc'sle.  In the
+port watch were two fighting men, my eyes had told me, the Cockney and
+the Nigger.  If they disputed my will in foc'sle affairs, I was still
+confident I should prove the best man.  I felt my tenure of office was
+secure, and that new, delicious feeling of power quite effaced, for the
+moment, the memory of the day, and reconciled me to the ship.
+
+This scrutiny I gave my companions was the first chance I had to fairly
+size them up, and I afterwards discovered that my first impressions of
+them, individually and collectively, were quite correct.
+
+We were, as you know, thirty men before the mast, fifteen to a watch.
+More than half of the thirty were of that class known to sailors as
+"stiffs."  This is, they were greenhorns masquerading on the articles
+as able seamen.  And such stiffs!  The Knitting Swede must have combed
+the jails, and stews, and boozing kens of all San Francisco to assemble
+that unsavory mob.
+
+In my watch, Newman, myself, and four square-heads could be called
+seamen.  But the squareheads knew not a dozen words of English between
+them.  The other nine were stiffs, various kinds of stiffs, broken men
+all, with the weaknesses of dissolute living stamped upon their
+inefficient faces.
+
+Except two men.  These two were stiffs right enough, and their faces
+were evil, God knows, but they plainly were not to be classed as
+weaklings.  I noticed them particularly that first watch below because
+they sat apart from the wrangling, cursing gang, and whispered to each
+other, and stared at Newman, who was lying in his bunk.
+
+They were medium sized men, as pallid of face as Newman, himself, and
+their faces gave one the impression of both slyness and force.  A grim
+looking pair; I should not have cared to run afoul of them on the
+Barbary Coast after midnight.  I already knew the names they called
+each other--the only names I ever knew them by--"Boston," for the blond
+fellow with the bridge of his nose flattened, and "Blackie" for the
+other, a chap as swarthy as a dago, with long, oily black hair, and
+eyes too close together.
+
+Even as I watched, they seemed to arrive at some decision in their
+whispered conversation.  Blackie got up from the bench and crossed over
+to Newman's bunk.  The latter was lying with his face to the wall.
+Blackie placed his hand upon Newman's shoulder, leaned over, and
+whispered into his ear.
+
+I saw Newman straighten out his long body.  For an instant he lay
+tense, then he slowly turned his head and faced the man who leaned over
+him.  On his face was the same expression of deadly menace he had shown
+the Cockney, back in the Swede's barroom.
+
+Blackie could not withstand that deadly gaze.  He backed hurriedly
+away, and sat down beside his mate.  Then Newman spoke in low, measured
+tones, and at the first word the babel of noise stopped in the foc'sle,
+and all hands watched his lips with bated breath.
+
+"I play a lone hand," he addressed the pair.  "You will keep your
+mouths shut, and work, and play none of your deviltries in this ship
+unless I give the word.  Otherwise--"  The great scar on his forehead
+was blue and twitching, and his voice was deadly earnest.  He did a
+thing so expressive it made me shudder.  He lifted his hand, and
+carelessly placed his forefinger on the outer side of his bunk, and
+when he lifted it, two of the myriad cockroaches that infested the
+foc'sle were mashed fiat on the board.
+
+Blackie's face set sullenly, and the angry blood darkened his cheeks.
+Boston wriggled uneasily on his seat, and cleared his throat as though
+about to speak.  But, at the instant, Lynch's booming voice came into
+the foc'sle, calling the watch on deck, and putting an abrupt end to
+the scene.
+
+There was an immediate scramble for the exit to the deck.  Aye, the
+mates had put the fear of the Lord--and themselves--into us, and we
+were all eager to show how willing we were!  But I heard Fitzgibbon
+without, as well as Lynch, and, from the gossip I had heard at the
+Swede's, I suspected the foc'sle was about to be introduced to the
+orthodox hell-ship manner of turning to the watch.  Both mates would
+meet us coming up, and the first man on deck would get a clout for not
+being sooner, and the last man a boot for being a laggard.
+
+So I held back, and allowed another the honor of being first through
+the door.
+
+This honor was seized by none other than Blackie.  I suppose he was
+anxious to escape from Newman's disturbing gaze; anyhow, at the second
+mate's first summons, he bounded from the bench, and tumbled through
+the door.  I followed immediately after, and saw my suspicions
+confirmed.
+
+Mister Fitz was holding a lantern, and Mister Lynch had his hands free
+for business.  He met Blackie's egress with a careless jab of his fist
+that up-ended the unfortunate stiff, and the injunction, "Hearty, now,
+you swabs!  Lay aft!"
+
+I quickly sidestepped out of the second mate's range, in case he should
+aim a blow at me, and started to obey the command to lay aft.  But I
+had taken but a step when I was arrested by Blackie's action.
+
+Instead of adopting the sensible course of meekness under insult,
+Blackie rebounded from the deck and flew at Lynch.  In the light cast
+by Mister Fitz's lantern, I saw the gleam of a knife blade in Blackie's
+hand.  I suppose the anger that Newman's words had raised exploded
+beneath Lynch's blow, and caused his mad rashness.
+
+But Bully Lynch made nothing of the assault.  "Ah, would you!" I heard
+him say as Blackie closed with him, and then the knife-hand went up in
+the air, and the weapon fell upon the deck.  "I'll teach you!" said
+Lynch, and he commenced to shower blows upon the man.  Blackie screamed
+curses, and fought back futilely.  Lynch commented in a monotone with
+each of his thudding blows, "Take that--that--that."  Soon he knocked
+Blackie cold, across the forehatch.  Then he turned to us who were
+clustered outside the foc'sle door, watching.  "Aft, with you!
+Jumping, it is, now!"
+
+Aft, we went, and jumping, too, with the mate's laugh in our ears.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+I had the second trick at the wheel that watch, from ten o'clock till
+midnight.  I came panting and sweating to the task, keenly relishing
+the chance of resting.  For there was to be no "farming" away the night
+watches in the _Golden Bough_; the second mate had kept us upon the
+dead run from one job to another, and I sensed this was the routine of
+the ship.
+
+It was a fine, clean smelling night of moon and stars, and brisk
+breeze.  The wind had freshened since day, and the vessel was stepping
+out and showing the paces that made her famous.  She had an easy helm;
+one of those rare craft that may be said to steer herself.  I had time
+to think, and receive impressions, as I half lounged at the wheel.  The
+round moon brightened the world, the west pyramids of canvas above me
+bellied taut, the cordage wrung a stirring whistle from the wind, the
+silver spray cascaded on the weather deck.  I watched the scene with
+delight, drank in the living beauty of that ship, and felt the witchery
+the _Golden Bough_ practiced upon sailors' minds steal over and possess
+me.  Aye, she was a ship!  I was soon to curse my masters, and the very
+day I was born, but never, after that night, did I curse the ship.  I
+loved her.  I felt the full force that night of a hoary sea axiom,
+"Ships are all right.  'Tis the men in them."
+
+I was surprised not to see Captain Swope upon the poop.  According to
+the gossip I had heard at the Knitting Swede's, this eight to twelve
+watch was Yankee Swope's favorite prowling time.  But he did not
+appear; indeed, he had not shown himself since he had so ignominiously
+surrendered the deck to Newman.  I was not disappointed.  I shouldn't
+have cared if he remained below the entire voyage.
+
+But I did see the lady that watch.  When Mister Lynch, and his
+familiars (of whom more anon), had gone forward to a job, she suddenly
+stepped out of the companion hatch and flitted aft towards me.  Then,
+when she was close enough to discern my features by the reflection from
+the binnacle lights, she stopped.  I heard a sort of gasping sigh that
+meant, I knew, disappointment, and she moved over to the rail, and
+stood staring at the sea.
+
+I knew what was wrong.  She had, in the darkness, mistaken my very
+respectable bulk for Newman's gigantic body.  She had expected to find
+Newman at the wheel; she was eager for a private word with him.
+
+I watched her, with my head half turned on my shoulder.  Aye, but it
+thrilled me, the sight of her!  You will call me a romantic young fool,
+but it was not that.  It was no thrill of desire, no throb of passion
+for her beauty, though she was fair enough, in all faith, as she stood
+there in the moonlight.  It was something bigger, something deeper, a
+wave of sympathy and pity that surged through my being, a feeling I had
+never before felt during my savage young life.  A pretty pass, you say,
+when the ignorant foc'sle Jack pities the captain's wife?  Aye, but the
+very beasts of the field might have pitied the wife of Yankee Swope.
+
+Her body seemed so slender and childlike.  Too fine and dainty to hold
+the woe of a hell-ship, and, Heaven knew, what private sorrow besides.
+She did not know I was observing her, or else her great trouble caused
+her to forget my presence, for she suddenly buried her face in her
+hands, and her shoulders commenced to heave.  It stabbed me to the
+quick, the sight of that noiseless grief.  My eyelids smarted, and my
+throat bulged uncomfortably.  What was her trouble?  Swope?  Had he
+hurt her?  Was the talk I had heard at the Swede's correct, did that
+black devil beat the lady?  My hands grasped the wheel spokes fiercely,
+as though I had Swope's sleek throat between my fingers.
+
+I heard Mister Lynch coming aft.  I thought the lady would not wish him
+to see her weeping, and since she did not seem to hear the approach, I
+called softly to her, "Lady!  They come!"
+
+She straightened, and, after a second, came swiftly to me.  She bent
+her face within the narrow radius of the binnacle lights, and her eyes
+looked straight into mine.  Aye, and the misery and suffering I saw in
+those great eyes!
+
+"God bless you, boy," she whispered.  "You are his friend?  Tell him I
+come forward in the morning.  Tell him--for my sake--as he loves his
+life--to look behind him when he walks in the dark!"
+
+With that she turned and sped to the hatch, and was gone below.  And up
+the poop ladder tramped Lynch, with the two tradesmen following him.
+
+I have mentioned these two familiars of the second mate before, and I
+had better explain them.
+
+The _Golden Bough_ carried neither junior officers, nor bo'suns, an
+unusual circumstance, considering the size and character of her crews.
+Instead, she carried two sailmakers and two carpenters, and these
+tradesmen lived by themselves in the round-house, ate aft at a special
+table, and, save when emergency work prevented, stood watch and watch.
+They stood their night watches aft, with the officer on deck.  This
+arrangement--unique in all my sea experience--provided three men,
+awake, armed and handy, throughout the night.  It worried us a good
+deal, this arrangement, when, in due time, we began to talk of mutiny.
+
+But I was not talking, or even thinking, of mutiny this night, or for
+many nights.  Nothing was further from my thoughts.  Mutiny is a
+serious business, a hanging business, the business of scoundrels, or
+the last resort of desperate men.  I knew the consequences of mutiny,
+so did the others, squareheads and stiffs, and we had not been
+sufficiently maltreated to make us ripe for such an undertaking.
+
+But there was mutiny in the air on the _Golden Bough_ from that very
+first day or the voyage.  I was soon to learn that there was plenty of
+rebellious spirit forward, and shrewd, daring fellows eager to lead,
+because of piratical greed.  Also, she was a hell-ship.  It was part of
+a hell-ship's routine to thump the crew to the raw edge of mutiny, and
+keep them there.
+
+You must understand the _Golden Bough_, and to understand her you must
+understand the knock-down-and-drag-out system in vogue on board a good
+many American ships of that day, and later.  A hell-ship was not just
+the result of senseless brutality on the part of the officers.  She was
+the product of a system.  The captain rode high in his owner's esteem
+when he could point to the golden results of his stern rule at sea; the
+bucko mates were specifically hired to haze the crew, and drew extra
+large pay for the job.
+
+It was, of course, a matter of dollars.  If the owners did not have to
+pay wages to the crew, they would save money, wouldn't they?  I suppose
+some sleek-jowled, comfortable pillar of church and society first
+thought of it, and whispered it into his skipper's ear.  And the
+skipper whispered it to his mates, and they made that ship so hot the
+crew cleared out at the first port or call, leaving their wages behind.
+So was the hell-ship born.
+
+For instance: We were thirty men before the mast in the _Golden Bough_,
+signed on for the voyage at $25 a month.  Of course, we didn't get any
+of this wage until the voyage was completed, until the vessel returned
+to an American port.  Think of the saving to the owners if we deserted
+in Hong Kong.  They would have no labor bill, practically, for working
+the ship from America to China, no labor bill during the months ere she
+was ready for sea again.  Then when ready to leave Hong Kong, Swope
+would ship a new crew, haze them as we were being hazed, and they would
+clear out at the next port.
+
+That system worked.  It was a money saver, and lasted till the
+ascendency of steam, and the passage of tardy laws, ended it.  Why,
+some skippers--like Yankee Swope---boasted they never paid off a crew.
+Talk about efficiency, and reducing overhead costs!  Some of those old
+windjammer skippers could swap yarns with these factory experts of
+to-day, I tell you!
+
+Of course, not all American ships, or even a majority of them, adopted
+this system.  But enough did to give American ships an evil name among
+sailors that has endured to the present day.
+
+And this evil name helped sustain the system.  It completed a kind of
+vicious circle.  The crew ran away from the hell-ship, and spread the
+evil fame of the vessel over the five oceans.  Sailors then would not
+willing ship in her--save, of course, a few adventuresome young fools,
+like myself, who sought glory--and the skipper found himself putting to
+sea with a mob of stiffs in his foc'sle.
+
+Often he had trouble getting stiffs.  In some ports, where the crimping
+system was not developed, the hell ship waited for months for a crew.
+In other ports, like San Francisco, where the boarding master's will
+was the law of sailortown, the captain paid over his blood money, and
+the boarding master delivered him his crew, drunk, drugged and
+sandbagged.  When he got to sea he would find his crew composed chiefly
+of the very scum of the waterside, a mode of unlicked, lawless
+ruffians, and his bucko mates would need all their prowess to keep them
+subordinate.  Hazing such a mob was the only way to manage them.  Also,
+it made them run away and leave their wages behind.
+
+But there were degrees of "heat" in the hell-ships.  The bucko mates
+usually contented themselves with working the men at top speed,
+depriving them of their afternoon watches below, and thumping the
+stiffs, because they were lubberly at their work.  This treatment was
+sufficiently severe to produce the desired results.  This was normal
+hell-ship style.  The few sailors, in the crew, providing they were
+willing, rarely received more than verbal abuse.
+
+Now, brutality feeds upon itself.  Some officers, after living under
+the system for a time, became perfect fiends.  They came to enjoy
+beating up men.  In some ships, the dressing down of the crew was a
+continuous performance, and sailors, as well as stiffs, caught it.
+
+As in the _Golden Bough_.  God's truth, there was blood spilt every
+watch!  Always, after the first day out, did the foc'sle bunks contain
+a miserable wretch or two laid up because of a manhandling.
+
+Yet we of the starboard watch were comparatively lucky.  Mister Lynch,
+our officer, was what I may call a normal bucko.  He hazed for the
+results rather than for the pleasure of hazing, though I think he did
+get some satisfaction out of thumping the men.  You feel a fine thrill
+when you see a half dozen huskies cringe away before you with fear in
+their eyes.  I imagine it is the same thrill a wild animal tamer feels
+as he faces his beasts.  I felt this fascinating sensation many times
+after I had become a mate of ships.  Lynch had no mercy on the stiffs
+of our watch; he hammered the rudiments of seamanship into them with
+astonishing speed.  He cuffed a knowledge of English into the
+squareheads.  But he kept his hands off Newman and me, not because he
+was afraid of us--I don't think Lynch feared anything--but because we
+knew our work and did it.  Oh, I got mine, and with interest, in the
+_Golden Bough_, but not from Lynch.
+
+The mate was a different type.  He was all brute, was Fitzgibbon, and
+sailors and stiffs alike caught it from him.  A natural bully, and,
+like most such, at heart craven.
+
+Lynch used his bare fists upon the men, Fitz used brass knuckles.  I
+don't think Lynch ever bothered to carry a gun in the daytime.
+Fitzgibbon never stirred on deck without a deadly bulge in his coat
+pocket.  Lynch stalked among us by night or day, alone, and unafraid.
+After dark, the mate never stirred from the poop unless Sails and Chips
+were at his heels.  Lynch was a bluff, hard man; Fitzgibbon was a
+cruel, sly beast.
+
+And Swope!  Well, I cannot explain or judge his character.  It would
+take a medical man to do that, I think.  He was his two mates rolled
+into one, plus brains.  He had fed a certain strong Sadistic element in
+his nature until inflicting pain upon others had become his chief
+passion.  I can imagine his perverted soul living in former lives--as a
+Familiar of the Inquisition, or the red-clad torturer of some medieval
+prince.  But explain him, no.  I will tell his ending, you may judge.
+
+But, of course, I was not musing upon the economy of hell-ships, or the
+characters of bucko mates, during the balance of that trick at the
+wheel.  The lady's message to Newman possessed my mind.
+
+When I went forward at eight bells, I immediately called Newman aside,
+and delivered her words.  He listened in silence, and his face grew
+soft.  He squeezed my hand, and whispered somewhat brokenly, "Thank
+you, Jack"--an exhibition of emotion that startled as much as it
+pleased me, he being such a stern man.
+
+Then, when I repeated the latter part of the lady's message, "Tell him
+. . . to look behind him when he walks in the dark," his features
+hardened again, and I heard him mutter, "So, that is his game!"
+
+"What is?" I asked.
+
+He did not answer for a moment, and I turned away towards my bunk.  But
+at that he reached out a detaining hand.
+
+"You are a big man, Shreve," he said.  "Not such a difference in our
+sizes but that a man might mistake us after dark.  Keep your weather
+eye lifted, lad; you, too, must look behind when you walk in the dark."
+
+"And what shall I look for?" asked I.
+
+"Death," he said.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+Came morning, but not the lady.
+
+And the foc'sle was in sad need of her ministrations.  Quite half the
+crew needed salves and bandages for their bruises and cuts, and there
+was, besides, a more serious case demanding attention.
+
+When the starboard watch was called at four o'clock, we heard a low,
+insistent moaning in the port foc'sle.  The man who called us said that
+the little squarehead--the lad Swope had manhandled--had again fallen
+afoul the masters.  The hurts Swope had inflicted prevented the boy
+moving about as quickly as Mister Fitzgibbon desired, so the bucko had
+laid him out and walked upon him during the mid-watch.  When he was
+through, the lad had crawled on his hands and knees into the foc'sle,
+and collapsed.
+
+By eight o'clock in the morning, when the starboard watch went below
+again, we found the poor chap daft, and babbling, and on fire with
+fever.  The mate gave up his efforts to arouse him, and admitted to
+Lynch that "the damn little stock fish is a bit off color.  Needs a
+dose o' black draught."
+
+After breakfast, Newman and I stepped into the port foc'sle.  The
+squareheads of our watch were already there, sitting gloomily about, or
+clumsily attempting to make the injured youth more comfortable.
+
+He looked bad, no mistake.  Newman shook his head, gravely, as we
+turned away.
+
+"It is a task for her," he said to me.  "She has the healing gift.  The
+boy is badly hurt."
+
+A growled curse took my answer from me.  It came from one of the
+squareheads, from Lindquist, a sober, bearded, middle-aged man, the one
+man among them who could manage a few words of English conversation.
+
+"Koom vrom mine town," he said, indicating the tossing form in the bunk.
+
+His blue eyes had a worried, puzzled expression, and his voice bespoke
+puzzled wrath.  It was evident his slow moving peasant's mind was
+grappling with the bloody fact of a hell-ship.  It was something new in
+his experience.  He was trying to fathom it.  Why were he and his mates
+thumped, when they willingly did their work?  What for?  "Nils iss goot
+boy," he said to us.  "So hard he vork, _ja_."  Then he bent over the
+bunk and resumed the application of his old folk remedy, the placing of
+wetted woolen socks upon Nils' forehead.
+
+Before the foc'sle door, we found our mob of stiffs, nursing their
+hurts, and watching the cabin.  For, as all the world of ships knew,
+this was the time of day the lady came forward on her errand of mercy.
+They were a sorry-looking mob, as sore of heart as of body.
+
+It was not so much medical attention the stiffs wanted, I think, as
+sympathy.  Bruises and lacerations, so long as they didn't keep a man
+off his feet, were lightly regarded in that tough crowd.  But the
+lady's sweet, sane being was a light in the pall of brutality that hung
+over the ship.  She was something more than woman, or doctor, to those
+men; in her they saw the upper world they had lost, the fineness of
+life they had never attained.  They had all felt the heartening
+influence of her presence at the muster; they craved for it now as
+thirsty men crave for water.  They were men in hell, and through the
+lady they had a vision of heaven.
+
+Two bells went, and then three, and the lady did not come.  At last
+Wong, the Chinese steward, came forward.
+
+"All slick man go aft," says he.  "Lady flix um."
+
+"Is she not coming forward?" asked Newman.
+
+"No can do.  Slick man lay aft."
+
+"What have you there?" I demanded, for he bore a glass filled with
+liquid.
+
+"Dosey.  Mlissa Mate, him say give slick man inside," and he pointed
+into the foc'sle.
+
+Newman ripped out an oath.  "Give it here.  A bonesetter, not a dose of
+physic is needed in there."
+
+He reached out his hand, and Wong obediently surrendered the glass.  He
+surrendered something else.  I was standing by Newman's side, and, saw
+the piece of paper that passed into his hand with the tumbler.
+
+Newman's face remained as impassive as the Chinaman's own.  He sniffed
+of the draught, made a wry face and tossed it, glass and all, over the
+side into the sea.  Then he turned on his heel and went into the
+foc'sle.  Wong went aft, followed by most of the watch.
+
+I went after Newman.  He was sitting on the edge of his bunk, musing,
+and the note was open upon his knee.  He handed it to me to read.
+
+It was just a strip of wrapping paper, hastily scribbled over in
+pencil.  But the handwriting was dainty and feminine.  It was from the
+lady, plainly enough, even though no name was signed.
+
+
+"_We have quarreled, and he has forbidden me to leave the cabin, or go
+forward this voyage.  He is drinking, he is desperate--oh, Roy, be
+careful, he is capable of anything.  I know him now.  Do not come aft
+with the sick._"
+
+
+I looked at Newman inquiringly.  But he said nothing to supplement the
+note.  He took it from me, lighted a match, and burned it up.  I
+guessed he was disappointed, that he had counted upon the lady coming
+forward.
+
+"And did the little dear write?  And what did she say," drawled an
+unpleasant voice behind us.
+
+I swung about with a start, and saw Boston and Blackie lying in their
+bunks, one above the other.  Boston had spoken, but they were both
+eyeing Newman.
+
+The dangerous light came into Newman's face.  "Mind your own business!"
+he said, shortly.
+
+There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, broken by Boston, with a
+wheedling note in his voice.
+
+"Aw, say, Big 'Un, don't get horstile.  We didn't mean to horn in.  We
+just want to be friends; we feel hurt, Blackie an' me, at the way
+you're giving us the go by.  We're all on the dodge together, ain't we?
+And we got a rich lay, I tell you!  Blackie and me has it all figured
+out, but we need you to lead, Big 'Un.  What d'ye want to pal with that
+cub for, when two old friends like Blackie an' me are ready and willing
+to work for you?  We got a rich lay, I tell you!"
+
+"Damn your thieving schemes," said Newman.
+
+"Aw, now, bring the cub in, if you like," persisted Boston.  "He's a
+game 'un."
+
+Blackie, the hot-headed, spoke up, resentfully.  He lifted his battered
+face on his elbow, and lisped through the gap Lynch's fist had made in
+his teeth.  "Number seven hundred and three wasn't so finicky about his
+pals the time he jumped the dead line, and ditched the Big House!"
+
+Newman crossed the foc'sle with one catlike bound.  He got Blackie by
+the throat and yanked him from the bunk.  Then he shook him, and threw
+him into the farther corner.
+
+"There will be no scheme set on foot from this foc'sle, save the one I
+father," he told the pair in his cool, level voice.  "I gave you your
+answer last night.  Now, if you two come between me and my goal, in
+this ship, as God lives, I'll kill you!"
+
+With that, he swung about and stepped into the port foc'sle.
+
+"Come on, Shreve," he said to me, over his shoulder.  "Lend a hand.
+You and I must attend to this boy."
+
+Presently I was standing by Nils' bunk, together with the squareheads,
+marveling at the gentleness with which Newman's huge hands handled the
+sufferer.  It was an exhibition of practiced skill.  The feeling was
+strong on me that moment that Newman had gained this skill in no
+foc'sle, but in a cabin, where as master he had doctored his own sick.
+
+But, after all, he was no surgeon, and there was little he could do for
+the lad.  Newman undressed him--the squareheads had not been able to
+accomplish this feat, because of the pain their rough handling
+caused--and bared the poor broken body to view.  The squareheads cursed
+deeply and bitterly at the sight of the shocking bruises on the white
+flesh.  Nils was delirious, staring up at us with brilliant, unseeing
+eyes, and babbling in his own lingo.
+
+"He say, mudder, mudder," commented Lindquist in a choked voice.  "I
+know his mudder."
+
+Newman explored the hurts with his finger, and his gentle touch brought
+gasps of agony.  His face grew very grave.  Then he ripped up a
+blanket, and with my assistance, skillfully bandaged Nils about the
+body.
+
+When he was through, he looked Lindquist in the eyes, and shook his
+head.
+
+"So?" said Lindquist.  His eyes, so stupid and dull a while before,
+were blazing now.  Aye, it was evident his law-abiding mind had arrived
+at a lawless decision; his lowering face boded no good for the brute
+who had maltreated his young friend.  "Gott, if he die!" he said.  It
+was a full-mouthed promise to avenge, that sentence.
+
+As we left, I became aware that Boston and Blackie had followed Newman
+and me, and had witnessed the scene.  Said Boston to his mate, in a low
+voice that I just caught,
+
+"If the kid croaks we'll have the squareheads with us."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+Captain Swope did not emerge from the cabin that day, nor the next day,
+nor the next.  But we obtained plain confirmation of the lady's word he
+was drinking, when, every morning the Chinese cabin boy brought empty
+bottles out on deck and heaved them overboard.  Whereat, all the
+thirsty souls forward clicked their tongues and swore.
+
+But this interim, during which Yankee Swope stayed below, and moped and
+drank, was, you may be sure, no peaceful period for the foc'sle.  The
+_Golden Bough's_ mates could be trusted to hustle the crowd whether or
+not the skipper's eyes were upon them.  There was bloody, knock-about
+work with belaying pin and knuckles, while the ship settled down into
+deep sea form, and the mob of stiffs learned to keep out of its own way
+and hand the right rope when yelled at.
+
+Since leaving port, the _Golden Bough_ had been standing a southerly
+course, on a port tack.  Now, on the third day, the wind hauled around
+aft, and came on us from the nor'east, as a freshening gale.  We
+squared away, and went booming down before it, true clipper style.  By
+nightfall it was blowing hard, and the kites were doused.
+
+The night came down black as coal tar, with an overcast sky, and
+lightning playing through the cloud in frequent, blinding flashes.  My
+watch had the deck from eight to twelve, and Mister Lynch (and his
+satellites, Chips and Sails) kept us hustling fore and aft, sweating
+sheets, and taking a heave at this and that.
+
+Few watches in my life stand out so sharply in my memory.  And it was
+not the near tragedy that concluded it that so impressed my mind; it
+was the sailing.  For Lynch was cracking on, and there was no
+faint-hearted skipper interfering with his game.  Indeed, had Swope
+been on deck before the hour when he did come up, I do not think he
+would have protested.  This reckless sailing was what made half the
+fame of the _Golden Bough_.  It was said that Yankee Swope sailed
+around Cape Stiff with padlocks on his topsail sheets!  And this night
+we showed the gale the full spread of her three t'gan's'ls, and the
+ship raced before the wind like a frightened stag.
+
+Oh, I had seen sailing before.  I had been in smart ships, had run my
+Easting down in southern waters more than once, had made the eastern
+passage of the Western Ocean with the winter storm on my back the whole
+distance.  But this night was my introduction to the clipper style,
+where the officers banked fifty per cent on their seamanship, to avert
+disaster, and fifty per cent on blind chance that the top hamper would
+stand the strain.  An incautious system?  Aye, but cautious men did not
+sail those ships.
+
+It was so dark we had to feel our way about the decks.  I could not see
+the upper canvas, but I could imagine it standing out like curved sheet
+iron.  Every moment I expected to hear the explosion of rent canvas, or
+the rattle of falling gear on the deck.  Not I alone thought so, for
+once when Chips and Sails went to windward of me, I heard Sails bawl to
+his companion,
+
+"He'll have the spars about our ears before the hour is out!"
+
+"Not he," responded Chips.  "Trust Lynch and his luck!"
+
+True enough.  The hour passed, and another, and Lynch still carried on
+without mishap.  Indeed, the wind had moderated a bit.
+
+Throughout the watch I kept close by Newman's side.  That warning, to
+look behind me in the dark, had by no means escaped my mind.  When we
+came on deck, Newman said to me, "A good night for a bad job, Jack!
+Keep your eyes open!"  Small advice on such a night, when a man could
+not have seen his own mother, stood she two feet distant!
+
+That warning had puzzled me, and I did not dare question Newman
+concerning it.  He was not the kind of man one could question.  But
+what was likely to lurk in the dark?  "Death," said he.  Did that mean
+he feared a stealthy assassination, a knife thrust from the dark?  Did
+he think that Captain Swope was planning the cold-blooded murder of an
+able seaman?
+
+There was the question.  In one way, it opposed my reason.  Of course,
+this was a hell-ship, and murder might very well take place on board.
+But that the captain should deliberately plot the removal of a foc'sle
+hand!  Able seamen were not of such importance in a hell-ship.
+
+Yet Newman was more than a foremast hand.  God knew who he was, or what
+his business in the ship, but it was plain he was Swope's enemy, and
+there was a private feud between them.  His mere appearance had caused
+the Old Man to run below, and remain hidden for three days! . . .
+There was the lady.  She was Newman's friend.  She knew the Old Man's
+moods, and she was positive about it.  The warning was doubtless well
+founded, I concluded.  And Newman was my friend, my chum for the
+voyage, I hoped.  If there were danger for him in the dark, it were
+well his friend stayed handy by.  So, throughout that black watch, I
+stuck as close as possible to his elbow.
+
+Six bells went when the watch was forward at a job.  Suddenly, down the
+wind, came a dear, musical hail, from aft.
+
+"Ahoy--Mister!"
+
+"B'Gawd, the Old Man's on deck!" ejaculated Lynch to his assistants.
+Then he bellowed aft, "Yes, sir?"
+
+"Reef t'gan's'l's, Mister!" came the command.
+
+"_Eh_!" blankly exclaimed Lynch.  "Now, what is he up to?"  But he
+yelled back his acknowledgment, "Reef t'gan's'ls, sir!"
+
+When the sails were clewed up, Newman and I were ordered aloft on the
+mizzen.  The stiffs were useless aloft on such a night, and the fore
+and main were given the handful of squareheads and the two tradesmen.
+
+When we jumped for the sheer pole we passed within a foot of a figure
+lounging across the rail at the poop break, and we knew it was Swope.
+There had been no word from him since the initial order.
+
+It was so dark we did not see his face.  As we swung up into the mizzen
+rigging, Newman shouted words in my ear that I knew the wind carried to
+the captain.
+
+"The devil is abroad, Jack, and there is hell to pay!"
+
+And when we had gained the yardarm, he added, "It is coming, Jack; one
+hand for yourself and one for the ship!"
+
+But he did not act upon the advice himself.  No more did I.  Indeed,
+one needs both arms and a stout back to pass reef points.  We leaned
+into the work, put our united brawn into it, and progressed briskly.
+All the while I stared beneath me, into the whistling, inky void,
+trying to discern that spot on the deck below, where the braces that
+held this yard steady were made fast.  I felt this lofty spot was no
+healthful abiding place for Newman and me.  I had a premonition of what
+was coming!
+
+Yet, when it did come, I was caught unawares.  I felt the wood I leaned
+on draw suddenly away from me.  There came a jerk that nigh snapped my
+neck.  My feet left the foot rope, and I was falling, head foremost,
+into the blackness.  They said I screamed loudly.  I was not conscious
+I opened my mouth.
+
+It is strange, the trick a thing like that can play with one's senses.
+I seemed to be falling for moments, an immeasurable distance.
+Actually, the whole thing occurred in about a second's space, and my
+feet just about cleared the yardarm when Newman's grip fastened upon my
+ankle.
+
+My face was buried in the smothering folds of the threshing sail; then
+Newman had drawn me up until my body balanced on the yard.  A second
+later my feet were again on the foot rope, and my hands fastened for
+dear life to the jackstay.
+
+I was conscious of using my voice then.  Aye--but I swore!  "By heaven,
+he let go the port brace!" I yelled to Newman.
+
+For answer, Newman grabbed me around the waist, just as a fork of
+lightning zigzagged through the sky.  For the briefest instant, the
+ship stood out in a bright light.  Far below us, on the deck, we saw
+Captain Swope standing, looking up at us.  Then blackness again.  I
+felt myself for a second time jerked clear of my foothold--to
+immediately wrap my limbs about a wire rope.  For Newman had leaped for
+a backstay, as the yard swung close, and carried me with him.
+
+For a moment we hung there, one above the other, then we commenced to
+slide to the deck.  Mister Lynch's voice came booming up to us, and we
+saw the light of a lantern bobbing about.  A moment later we clattered
+off the poop, on to the main deck.
+
+A group was bunched together in the lee of the cabin, Captain Swope,
+and Lynch and the tradesmen.  Lynch carried the lighted hurricane lamp
+that hung handy in a sheltered nook during the night.  Forward, a
+respectful distance, the stiffs of the watch made a vague blot in the
+gloom.  As, we came down the poop ladder a voice I recognized as
+Boston's called to us from this last group, "He tried to get you, Big
+'Un!"  So I knew that the lightning flash had revealed to the watch
+what it had revealed to us.
+
+"The brace was slipped," said Newman to Lynch.
+
+"I know," replied the second mate, shortly.  There was contempt in his
+voice, and I knew, when I looked at his grim, disdainful face, that he
+had had no hand in the affair.  Bucko Lynch might kill a man in what he
+considered the line of duty, but snapping men off a yardarm was not his
+style.  But I also knew that he was an officer of an American ship, and
+would consider it his duty to back up his captain no matter what
+villainy the latter attempted.
+
+Swope smiled sweetly at us.  One might think that a man, even a ship's
+autocrat, when detected in an attempt at cold-blooded murder, would
+make some specious explanation of his act.  Not Swope.  No hypocritical
+contrition showed in the face the lantern lighted; rather, a cool,
+pitiless inhumanity that squeezed my bowels, even while rage surged
+within me.
+
+We had understood that Swope was drunk for the past three days, but the
+smiling features showed no mark of his dissipation.  Neither did he
+exhibit any of the fear he had shown at Newman's sudden appearance the
+other afternoon.  It was plain that Captain Swope had taken heartening
+counsel with himself regarding the danger he might incur from Newman's
+presence on board.  Whatever was the mysterious feud between the two,
+Swope had the upper hand.  He rested secure in the knowledge of his
+power as captain, in his knowledge of Newman's helplessness as a mere
+foremast hand.
+
+And so he smiled, and said musingly, and distinctly, to Newman, "A miss
+is as good as a mile, eh?  But it is a long passage!"  The cool
+insolence of it!  God's truth, it chilled me, this careless confession
+of the deed, and threat of what the future held.  And then, as though
+to remove the last possible doubt in our minds that the slipping of the
+brace was an accident, that the whole job of striking sail was but a
+pretext to get Newman aloft, Swope turned to the second mate.
+
+"I think she'll stand it, Mister," he said.  "You may as well shake out
+the t'gan's'l's again!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+I went below after that watch with the thought of mutiny stirring in
+the back of my mind.  But in the back, not the front, mind you.  For
+mutiny on a ship is a dreadful business, as I, a sailor, well knew.  A
+neck-stretching business!  Yet there the thought was, and it stuck, and
+pecked ever more insistently at my consciousness as the days passed.
+
+Of course, I was wild with rage at Swope's attempt.  And I was anxious
+on Newman's account.  You see, I looked upon him as my chum, and--had
+he not saved my life, up there, on the yard?  It is true, there were
+none of the usual manifestations of foc'sle friendship between us; we
+did not swap tobacco, and yarns, and oaths.  Newman did not permit such
+intimacy; always he was a man apart, a marked man.  But, from the very
+first, the man's personality dominated me, and, after that night on the
+yardarm, I felt a passionate loyalty to him.  He was not insensible to
+my friendliness, I knew; he welcomed it, and found comfort in it.
+
+If he had come to me that night, or afterwards, with a scheme for
+taking the ship, I should have joined in straightway, no matter how
+harebrained it might seem.  But, of course, he did no such thing.
+Indeed, he never mentioned the incident to me, after we left the deck
+that night.  For all of him, it might never have happened.  And, you
+may be sure, I did not intrude upon his reserve with queries, or
+reminiscence.
+
+Nor did the rest of the watch approach him.  Rather did they avoid him,
+as a dangerous person.  With that thought of rebellion in my mind, I
+watched my watchmates that night with more tolerance than my eyes had
+yet shown them.  I wanted to judge what stuff was in them.
+
+The stiffs whispered together and eyed us furtively.  I did not like
+the stuff I saw in them.  Rough, lawless, held obedient only by fear,
+the scum of the beach--I did not like to imagine them sweeping along
+the decks with restraint cast aside, and passions unleashed.  The
+squareheads were a different kind.  Good men and sailors, here, but men
+whose habit of life was submission.  Yet, I saw they were gravely
+disturbed by what had taken place on deck.  No wonder.  I knew their
+minds.  "Who is safe in this ship?" they thought.  "Who, now, may go
+aloft feeling secure he will reach the deck again, alive and unhurt?"
+Those squareheads had proof of the mate's temper in the person of their
+young landsman, lying broken in his bunk.  Now, they had proof of the
+skipper's temper.
+
+My eyes met those of Boston and Blackie, eyeing me speculatively, and
+the contact brought my musing to a sharp turn.  What did Boston and
+Blackie think of it?  I could tell from their bearing that, for some
+reason, they were pleased.  I thought of them as fighting material--and
+did not relish the thought.  Fighters, yes, but foul fighters.  I did
+not like to think of being leagued with them in an enterprise.  And
+what was this "rich lay" they spoke of?  What was this game they were
+willing I should enter?  Did they, too, think mutiny?
+
+These thoughts plagued me for days, and I found no answer, or peace of
+mind.  Hell was preparing in that ship, I felt it in my bones; and we
+were getting enough hell already, with drive, drive, drive, from dawn
+to dawn.  Yet, there were rifts in the clouds.
+
+For one thing, Lynch quieted my mind of the fear that the Old Man would
+again get Newman aloft at night, and attempt his life with better
+success.  The very next day, Lynch came to the foretop, where Newman
+and I were working on the rigging.  He examined the work, and then
+said, abruptly, to Newman,
+
+"I had nothing to do with that affair last night."
+
+"I know you had not," answered Newman.
+
+"I give you warning--he intends to get you," continued the second mate.
+"But he'll not get you that way in my watch.  From now on, you need not
+go aloft after dark."
+
+"Thank you, sir," said Newman.
+
+"You need not," was the response.  "I'm not doing this for your sake.
+Well--you understand.  And make no mistake, my man, as to my position;
+I am a ship's officer, and if trouble comes it will find me doing my
+duty by my captain's side."
+
+"There will be no trouble if I can prevent it, sir," was Newman's reply.
+
+"Then you have your work cut out for you.  You--understand?"
+
+"Yes, I understand," said Newman.
+
+I watched Mister Lynch leap nimbly to the deck, and go striding aft, a
+fine figure of a man.  "Why, he's on the square!" I exclaimed.
+
+"Yes, he is not like the others," said Newman.  "She says his heart is
+clean."
+
+She says!  Well, it was hardly news to me.  I was sure he was in
+communication with her.  He always made it a point to meet Wong, the
+steward, when the latter came forward to the galley.  And there were
+times in the night watches below when his bunk was empty.  He was a
+great hand for pacing the deck in lonely meditation, and for stowing
+himself away and brooding alone in odd corners.  We did not spy upon
+him, or force ourselves upon him, you may be sure.  Not upon Newman.
+
+The lady was, we understood, forbidden by the Old Man to come forward.
+The daily visits to our dogs' kennel, dispensing cheer and mercy, and
+for which she was famous the world around, were to be denied us this
+voyage.  Because of Newman's presence.  We missed the visits; they
+would have brightened the cruel days.  But I don't think any man felt
+resentful against Newman.  Our sympathies were all with the lady, and
+the lady's feelings, we knew, were all with Newman.  So it was upon
+Yankee Swope's unheeding head we rained our black curses.
+
+The lady was doing what she could to aid us.  She held, every morning,
+a levee in the cabin for the lame and sick, all who could drag
+themselves aft, and tended them skillfully.  But this did not help the
+bedridden ones.  It did not help young Nils.
+
+But nothing could have helped Nils.  The bucko had done his work too
+well.  Not once did the boy rally; daily and visibly his life ebbed.
+
+You must understand the callous indifference of the afterguard to
+realize its effect upon the foc'sle.  The boy lay dying for weeks, and
+not once did the Captain come forward to look at him.  Medicines and
+opiates were sent forward by the lady, but, though they eased the chap,
+they were powerless to salvage his wrecked body.  Newman said Nils'
+ribs were sticking into his lungs.
+
+Lindquist went aft to ask permission to move the boy to the cabin,
+where the lady could nurse him.  Swope blackguarded the man, and
+Fitzgibbon kicked him forward.  Lynch ignored the very existence of
+Nils---the lad was not of his watch, and the whole matter was none of
+his business.  But Mister Fitz came into the port foc'sle every day, to
+make sure Nils could not stand on his feet and turn to; and on deck he
+would sing out to his watch that Nils' fate was the fate of each man
+did he not move livelier.  "Jump, you rats!  I'll put you all in your
+bunks!" he would tell them.
+
+The sight of their young landsman in agony stirred the berserk in the
+squareheads of the crew.  It made them ripe for revolt, drove them to
+lawless acts, as their shanghaiing and the brutality of the officers
+could not have done.
+
+These squareheads were no strangers to each other.  They were all
+friends and old shipmates.  The Knitting Swede had crimped them all out
+of a Norwegian bark, plied them with drink, and put them on board the
+_Golden Bough_ after he had promised to find them a high-waged coasting
+ship.
+
+Young Nils was a sort of mascot in this crowd.  He was making his first
+deep-water voyage under their protection and guidance.  Most of them
+were his townsmen; they had known him from babyhood.  As Lindquist said
+to me, his blue eyes filled with pain and rage, "I know his mudder.
+When Nils ban so high, I yump him by mine knee."  So it was that rage
+over the pitiful fate of their dear friend fanned into flame a spark of
+rebellion in the squarehead's disciplined souls, and caused them,
+eventually, to leap the barriers of race and caste prejudice and make
+common cause with the stiffs.
+
+Now, I do not wish to idealize those stiffs.  No use saying they were
+honest workingmen kidnaped to sea.  They were not.  They were just what
+the mates called them--dogs, scum, vile sweeps of jail and boozing-ken.
+With the single exception of the shanghaied parson, there was not a
+decent man in the lot.  Bums and crooks, all.
+
+These men had lived violent, lawless lives ashore.  Here, at sea, the
+mates hammered the fear of the Lord and the Law into them.  This was
+well and good.  But the mates hammered too hard.  They aimed to cow the
+stiffs, and cow them they did.  But the stiffs' fear of the afterguard
+became so great they were like cornered rats.  They came below after a
+watch on deck with fresh marks upon their faces and bodies, and heard
+little Nils moaning in his pain.  And each man said to himself, "I may
+be the next to get what the little squarehead got."
+
+Misery loves company, so these stiffs naturally drew close together.
+Their common hatred and fear of the afterguard fused them into a unit.
+By the time we were a month at sea, the stiffs, like the squareheads,
+were in a most dangerous temper, and ripe for any deviltry.
+
+This common state of mind grew beneath my eyes, but at first I did not
+see significance in it.  A mutinous state of mind is a normal state of
+mind in a hell-ship's foc'sle.
+
+But a mutiny was incubating in that ship.  There were men forward who
+were vitally interested in bringing trouble to a head, in causing an
+outbreak of violence, in fomenting an uprising of the slaves.  One day,
+my eyes were opened to their game.
+
+For weeks I noticed Blackie and Boston circulating among the men during
+the dog-watches.  They were great whisperers, a secretive pair, and
+they never spoke their minds outright before the crowd.  I paid them
+little attention, for I did not like them, and felt no interest in what
+I thought was their gossip.  It never occurred to me they were
+industriously fanning the spark of revolt, suggesting revenge to the
+squareheads, and tickling the rascally imagination of the stiffs with
+hints of golden loot.
+
+So far my rule as cock of the foc'sle had been unchallenged.  All hands
+had accepted my will in foc'sle matters willingly enough, and I had
+been careful not to hector.  As number one man, it was my place to see
+that the men stood their "peggy"--that is, they took their regular turn
+about at getting the food at meal time, and cleaning up the foc'sle.
+
+It came Boston's peggy day.  He didn't like it a bit.  He thought
+himself too good for such menial tasks, and suggested that Shorty, the
+smallest and weakest of the stiffs, be made permanent peggy.  I vetoed
+this as unfair, and Boston went about the work, but sullenly.
+
+Next day was Blackie's peggy, as he well knew.  When we came below at
+noon, he made no move to fetch the grub from the galley.
+
+"How about dinner, Blackie?" I demanded.
+
+"Well--how about it?" he replied.  "I'm no servant girl!  Get your own
+grub!"
+
+All hands looked at me, expectantly.  This was open defiance, and they
+wanted to see what the cock would do about it.  There was only one
+thing I could do, and I did it gladly.
+
+I took that chesty stiff by the throat, and squeezed until his eyes
+popped.  Then I carried him out on deck and stuck his head in the
+wash-deck tub, to cool his ardor; the whole watch following us as
+interested spectators.
+
+"Well, Blackie, how about dinner?" I asked, when I released my grip.
+
+In answer, he backed quickly away from me, spluttering oaths and salt
+water.  I watched him warily, for his affair with the second mate had
+shown him to be a knife wielder, and I had no wish to be stabbed.  True
+enough, he jerked out his sheath knife.
+
+"Stop that, you fool!" came Boston's voice, from behind me.  "Do you
+want to crab the whole game?"
+
+Those words had an astonishing effect upon Blackie.  His bellicose
+attitude vanished abruptly, he stopped cursing, and his knife went back
+into its sheath.
+
+"That dinner, Blackie," I insisted.
+
+"Sure--I'll get it," he answered submissively.
+
+But I wasn't satisfied with my victory.  Of course, I was confident I
+could have knocked him out as handily as Bucko Lynch, himself, but I
+knew it was not fear of me, but obedience to Boston's words that caused
+Blackie to give in so readily.
+
+Those words bothered me.  "Do you want to crab the whole game?"  Now
+what the deuce did Boston mean?  What game were these two worthies up
+to?  Undoubtedly, it was that "rich lay" they had spoken to Newman
+about.  But what had I to do with it?  How could I crab their game?  I
+began to think there was something besides loose talk in these hints of
+revenge and loot the pair were dropping in the foc'sle.
+
+I guess Boston knew my suspicions must be aroused, and thought it time
+to sound my sentiments.  Also, as it turned out, he wanted to pump me
+regarding Newman.  I was Newman's one close friend, and Boston must
+have thought I knew something of the big man's intentions.
+
+Anyway, after supper that evening, as I was sitting on the forehatch,
+whittling away at a model of the _Golden Bough_ I was making, Boston
+came and sat down beside me.
+
+"Should think you'd be so fed up with this hooker, you wouldn't want
+any model of her," he remarked, by way of opening a conversation.
+
+"She's a bonny ship," I told him.  "It is not the ship, it is the men
+in her.  You'll never see a better craft than the _Golden Bough_,
+Boston."
+
+"_Faugh_!" he snorted, and followed with a blistering curse.  "Blast
+your pretty ships!  I'd like to see this old hooker go on the rocks, by
+God I would!  Well--maybe I will see her finish, eh?"
+
+I glanced at him sidewise, and discovered he was likewise regarding me,
+with the lids drawn over his pale eyes till they were mere slits.  I
+didn't like Boston's eyes.  For that matter, I didn't like anything
+about Boston.  But I was interested; I sensed this was no idle talk.
+There was something behind the words.
+
+"Small chance of your seeing her finish," I said.  "As well found a
+ship as there is afloat--and you may call the Old Man and his buckos
+what you will, but they are sailormen."
+
+"I've heard of ships sinking in storms," says he.
+
+"You talk like the stiff you are," I scoffed.  "Show me the weather
+that will drown the _Golden Bough_, with good sailors aft!  Besides,
+Boston, we're not likely to have any bad weather, for which you can say
+a prayer of thanks, for you stiffs would catch it if we did pick up a
+decent blow."
+
+"Why not?" he asked.
+
+"It's a fair weather passage," I explained.  "These trades will blow us
+clean across one hundred and eighty, into the sou'west monsoon, and
+with luck that'll carry us into the China Sea.  Of course, there is
+always the chance of meeting a hurricane this side, or a typhoon on the
+other side.  You'll squeal if we do, I bet!"
+
+Says he, "Well, now how about running on a rock?  We'll be going among
+islands, _hey_?  These South Sea Islands?"
+
+"Forget it," I replied.  "We'll not sight the beach this side of the
+Orient, unless the Old Man makes a landfall of Guam.  We are running
+along sixteen north, and that takes us south of the Sandwich group, and
+north of the Marshalls and Carolines."
+
+"Well, now, I guess the Big 'Un has been showing you his map, hey?"
+
+"What's that to you?" I said, shortly.
+
+"Nothing.  Nothing at all," he answered, hurriedly.
+
+In truth, I was surprised and nettled.  I hadn't got the point of
+Boston's questions, and I hadn't supposed he was watching Newman and me
+so sharply.
+
+For Boston had it right, I had been looking at the Big 'Un's "map."
+Newman had a fine, large scale chart of the Pacific in his bag, and
+this he brought out every day, and traced upon it the progress of the
+voyage.  He got the ship's position either from the steward, or from
+the lady, I did not know which.
+
+I had been privileged to see the chart, but I knew that none other had
+ventured to approach when it was spread out on Newman's bunk.  Newman
+had traced the ship's probable course clear to Hong Kong, for my
+benefit, and explained to me the problems of the passage.  He did not
+speak like a man merely guessing, but with authority, like a man who
+had sailed his own ship over this course.  I absorbed the information
+greedily, but did not venture to inquire how he was so positive about
+Yankee Swope's sailing plans.  Somehow, I knew he was correct.
+
+It pricked my conceit to discover that Boston was aware Newman had
+fathered the information that was falling from my lips.
+
+"Say, how long before we reach Hong Kong?" went on Boston.
+
+"You had better ask Newman, himself," I retorted.
+
+"Now don't get mad, Jack," he said humbly.  "You know I didn't mean
+nothing.  Guess you _sabe_ as much about sailing as the Big 'Un,
+anyway."
+
+"Well, this is a fast ship--none faster," I told him, mollified by his
+flattery.  "Say seventy days, at the outside, from 'Frisco to Hong
+Kong.  Probably sixty days would be nearer to it."
+
+At that he burst out cursing, and consigned the ship and all her
+afterguard to the Evil One.  "My God, another month of this hell!" he
+cried.  "Will you stand it, Shreve?"
+
+"Sure.  We'll all stand it.  What else to do?" I replied.
+
+"What else!" said he.  His voice was suddenly crafty.  "Well, now,
+Shreve, didn't it ever strike you as how we're blasted fools to let
+those fellows aft knock us about?  There are thirty of us, and two of
+them!"
+
+"More than that," I warned him.  "You forget Captain Swope, and the
+tradesmen.  There are seven of them, aft, all armed, and of a fighting
+breed.  You are hinting at a silly business, Boston."
+
+"Oh, I don't know," he persisted.  "Thirty to seven ain't so bad.  And
+they haven't all the arms--we got our knives, ain't we?  And maybe
+other things, too."
+
+"Forget it," said I.  "Don't imagine for a minute these stiffs will
+face guns.  You and your mate might, but as for the rest of the
+gang--why, Lynch could clean them up single-handed.  Better stow that
+kind of talk.  It's dangerous.  You have the law against you, and it's
+a neck-stretching affair."
+
+"The law?" he echoed.  "What do you think that gang cares for the law?
+Mighty few laws they ain't broke in their time!  And they may be
+stiffs, right enough, but they'll fight--for money!"
+
+"Dare say," I remarked, sarcastically.  "And I suppose you'll hire them
+with your bags of gold, which you probably have stowed under your bunk?"
+
+"Well, now, maybe I'd just have to promise them something," he said.
+He glanced around, then leaned towards me and lowered his voice to a
+whisper.  "Shreve, there are a hundred thousand dollars in hard cash
+aft there in the cabin!"
+
+"What's that?" I exclaimed.
+
+"Yes," he said.  "I know.  You bet I know.  Blackie and me knew before
+ever we come on board this cursed hooker.  The Swede didn't shanghai
+us, you bet!"
+
+"Oh, stow that sort of guff, Boston," I told him.  "Maybe the Swede
+didn't shanghai you; but if he didn't, it was because you and your mate
+were willing to ship with the devil himself in order to get out of the
+country."
+
+My words touched his temper, as I thought they would.  "You seem to
+know a lot more than I know myself," he sneered.  Before I could
+answer, he regained control of his tongue, and continued with oily
+suavity.  "I guess the Big 'Un has been talking to you?  Hasn't he?  I
+guess maybe he's told you that Blackie and me are two men who can take
+a chance without weakening?  Say, Jack, what has the Big 'Un been
+saying to you about us?  I want particular to know."
+
+"He hasn't said a blessed word about you," I answered, truthfully.
+
+Boston cursed, and favored me with an evil squint; then he hid the look
+behind a forced laugh.  "Well, If you don't want to tell me, I guess
+you don't have to," he remarked.  "It don't hurt me and Blackie none,
+whatever the Big 'Un says.  And say, Jack, you and us ought to be good
+friends.  Blackie and me know that you're a good man, the kind that'll
+take a chance, and keep his word.  Well, we're the same.  There are
+only a few of us in this end of the ship that have any backbone to
+speak of, and we ought to stick together.  There's pay-dirt in this
+ship if we only play the game right."
+
+"What do you mean?" I wanted to know.
+
+But Boston concluded he had said almost enough for once.  He rapped his
+pipe against the hatch-combing to dislodge the dottle, and got to his
+feet.  I thought he was going to leave me without replying to my query,
+but after he had taken a step or two he spoke over his shoulder, softly.
+
+"That's true what I said about the money, Jack.  It's there, just
+waiting for a few lads of nerve to come and take it."
+
+"If that talk gets aft, the Old Man will have you thumped into a jelly,
+just as an example to the other stiffs," I warned him.
+
+He gave the devil's cackle that passed with him for a laugh, and
+stepping close to my side, spoke directly into my ear.
+
+"Who is going to take the talk aft?  Not you.  Blackie and me know that
+Jack Shreve ain't a snitch.  Not the Big 'Un.  You can tell him what I
+said if you like.  You can tell him something more.  Blackie and me
+think there is a snitch in this gang, and the Big 'Un had better keep
+his eyes peeled for a double-cross.  You tell him that.  You tell him
+to ask Nigger about it."
+
+"What do you mean?" I cried.
+
+His answer was a mysterious shake of the head, and he disappeared into
+the foc'sle.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+If Boston meant to give me something to think about, he succeeded.  He
+left me worried.  Not about the treasure or mutiny at which he hinted;
+for the time being I put this subject out of my mind.  I was concerned
+over his unexplained warning.  What did it mean?  Did some new danger
+threaten my friend?
+
+I went in search of Newman, to give him the warning.  He was not in his
+bunk, so I stepped into the port foc'sle, expecting to find him by
+Nils' side.  Nils was dying--we had been expecting him to go at almost
+any hour for a week past--and Newman had been spending a goodly share
+of his watches below by the lad's side.
+
+But he was not there now.  The parson, and some of the squareheads of
+the port watch, were keeping sick vigil.  Nils was very near the time
+when he must slip his cable; he lay quiet, eyes closed, hardly
+breathing, and his thin, white face seemed already composed into its
+death mold.  Holy Joe sat holding the boy's hand; his head was bowed,
+and I judged he was praying.  The others stared miserably at the floor,
+or ceiling, or at each other.  Aye, the taste of bitter sorrow was in
+the air of the port foc'sle.  I left without disturbing the silent
+watchers, but I wondered at their boldness.  They should have been on
+deck.  Mister Fitzgibbon did not give his men respite, even during the
+dog-watches.
+
+I went poking about the odd corners of the fore deck, expecting to find
+my man tucked away somewhere smoking and meditating, for Newman was a
+solitary fellow, very fond of his own company in his free time.  I laid
+the ill-success of my search to the dusk; it was past seven bells, and
+although there was still a glow in the western sky, on board ship it
+was quite dark and the sidelights had been out a half hour.  Finally, I
+decided to lay off, waylay the Nigger when he came for'ard from his
+trick at the wheel, and ask him myself what was the meaning of Boston's
+talk of "snitch."
+
+Now it was no light undertaking for a foremast hand to trespass abaft
+the main mast in the _Golden Bough_.  There was risk in it, risk of a
+beating, or worse.  A man might lay aft in that ship to work, or in
+obedience to orders, but for no other reason.  Hell-ship discipline.
+
+So I slipped aft without making a noise, and avoided attracting to
+myself unwelcome attention from the poop.  I was barefoot, and I crept
+along the rail, keeping within the shadows on the lee deck.  When I
+came abreast the roundhouse, I darted into the black shadow it threw
+upon the lee deck, and crouched there, composed to wait.  My eyes were
+aft, upon the break of the poop, and I was ready to take instant flight
+for'ard, did discovery threaten me.
+
+After I had lain there a moment, I noticed the figure of a man standing
+motionless, flattened against the cabin wall, on my side of the deck.
+He was so still he appeared to be lifeless, a part of the ship; I
+looked hard before I decided it was a man.  It was too dark to make out
+his features, almost too dark to discern outline, but by the bigness of
+the blot he made against his background I was sure the man was Newman.
+What he was doing in such a position I could not guess, but I was so
+sure of my man, I did not hesitate to move towards him.  I even spoke
+his name, in an urgent whisper.
+
+My hiss brought a prompt response, but not the one for which I was
+looking.  To my surprise the fellow ran away from me; he slipped across
+the deck (padding noiselessly, for he was barefoot, like, myself) and,
+bending nearly double, scurried for'ard beside the weather rail.
+
+I stared after him, undecided what to do.  The man looked like Newman,
+but he did not act like him.  I had half a mind to pursue his flitting
+figure.
+
+Then all at once I discovered I must take cover myself.  I heard the
+mate's voice, up on the poop; he was hailing his tradesmen.
+
+"We'll take a whirl for'ard," says he.  "I'll give the bums a sweat at
+the braces so they won't think I'm asleep."
+
+I had moved away from the shadow of the round-house, and was revealed,
+as I stood, to any eye looking over the poop rail.  I was in a ticklish
+position altogether.  If braces were to be tightened, the lee of the
+roundhouse would be a poor hiding-place for me.  In fact it would be no
+hiding-place at all.  But get out of sight I must, and quickly, or
+suffer the unpleasant consequences of discovery.
+
+I heard boots clumping on the poop deck.  There wasn't time for me to
+escape forward.  So I darted aft and flattened myself against the cabin
+wall, in exactly the same position, and in very nearly the same spot,
+as that occupied by the fellow I had scared away.  I was not a second
+too soon.  Sails and Chips came down the port ladder, and paused on the
+main deck, almost within arm's reach of me, waiting for the mate to
+join them.
+
+If they had glanced in my direction they must have seen me.  But they
+were looking forward, and were also occupied with talk.
+
+Said Chips, "But what's the game?  He's working up trouble, that's
+plain.  But what's he after this time?"
+
+Said Sails, "He's after that fellow in the Greaser's watch, or I'm a
+damn bad guesser.  But, his game--well, ask me something easy.  Did you
+ever know anybody to fathom his game?"
+
+This I heard with one ear.  At the same time my other ear was getting
+filled with different kind of talk.  Aye, my post was between two
+conversations, and I found myself eavesdropping in two directions.
+
+This wall I hugged was the forward wall of the sail-locker, which, in
+the _Golden Bough_, was a large room in the cabin space, and as I
+stood, my starboard ear was but a few inches distant from the
+sail-locker door.  This door was in two parts, and the upper half was
+barely ajar.  Through this narrow slit I heard--I couldn't help
+hearing--the murmur of low-voiced talk.  Two people were in the
+sail-locker, talking.  Oh, aye, I had discovered Newman.  I recognized
+his voice.  I recognized the other voice--the lady's voice.
+
+"Oh, Mary--little love--it doesn't seem to matter any more.  When I am
+with you, it is just a hideous dream from which I have awakened."  It
+was Newman speaking, and in a voice so tender, so vibrant with feeling,
+it was hard to believe the words came out of the mouth of the foc'sle's
+iron man.  "But now I wish to live again.  Ah, little love, I have been
+dead too long, dead to everything except pain and hate.  But now that I
+know, now that we both know--oh, Mary, surely we have earned the right
+to live and love.  God will not hold it against us, if I take you from
+that mad beast.  God--I am beginning to believe in God again, Mary,
+when I am with you."
+
+"I, too, wish to live--and in clean air," came in the lady's voice.
+"Oh, Roy--five years--and the piling up of horrors--oh, I could not
+have stood it very much longer, Roy.  But now--we can forget."
+
+"That lad for'ard is all ready to slip his cable," came from the other
+direction, from Chips.  "The steward says he's all set to go."
+
+"He's been all set for a fortnight," was the other man's comment, "but
+he hangs on.  Takes a lot to kill a squarehead.  Most likely he'll be
+hanging on when we make port."
+
+"Not if I know Fitz and--him," said Chips.  "You don't think they'd
+leave evidence of that sort for a port doctor to squint at.  Remember
+that Portagee, last voyage, and how he finished?"
+
+"Aye, it was hard on the lady, that job was.  But he--he's a devil,
+sure.  No use standing out against him."
+
+"Five years!  My God, how have you been able to stand it, Mary?" said
+Newman.  "Five years--and most of them spent at sea in this blood ship!"
+
+"It has been my penance, Roy.  It has seemed to me that in sailing with
+him, in lessening even a little bit the misery he causes those poor
+men, I have been atoning, in a little measure, for my lack of faith in
+you.  Oh, it was my fault in the beginning, dearest.  If only I had had
+faith in the beginning, if only I had trusted my heart instead of my
+eyes and ears.  I might have known that time that Beulah was lying."
+
+"Hush.  How could you know?  It was my stubborn, stupid pride.  If I
+had not rushed away and left the field to him.  And I never knew, or
+even guessed, until Beasley told me."
+
+"If I was that big fellow, I'd just hop over the side and have it over
+with," came from Sails.  "If the Old Man is after him, he's bound to
+get him, and making a quick finish himself would save a lot o' bother
+all around."
+
+"What's it about, anyway?" says Chips.
+
+"How do I know?" answered Sails.  "I don't go poking my nose into
+Yankee Swope's business, you can bet your bottom dollar I don't.  I
+take my orders, and let it go at that.  Same as you.  Same as the
+others.  There's Fitz up there now, chinning with him, and I bet Fitz
+don't know much more of his game than you and me.  He takes his orders
+just like we do."
+
+"That's right.  We ain't hired to think.  Not in this ship," agreed
+Chips.
+
+"Do you think, Roy, that Beulah--that she jumped--herself?"  The lady's
+voice was trembling.
+
+"I don't know, dear.  I think maybe she did.  But Beasley thought--oh,
+well, what does it matter now?"
+
+"Beasley thought he did it.  I knew--I felt it was him, oh, long, long
+ago.  It would be like him, Roy.  He has never dropped a hint that
+would incriminate himself, but I have known his guilt of the other
+thing--for which you suffered--ever since our marriage.  When he
+dropped the mask, revealed himself in his true character--oh, I knew he
+must be guilty.  And I was helpless."
+
+"My God, five years!" muttered Newman.  "How could you stand it?"
+
+"It was not so hard, except at first," said the lady.  "Too much horror
+numbs, you know.  And one thing made it endurable--he has spared me the
+intimacy of marriage.  It is true, dearest; I am as much a maid as I
+was five years ago.  He is that kind of a man, Roy.  It is not women he
+lusts for, it is--oh, it is blood.  There is something horrible in his
+mind, a diseased spot, an unnatural quirk, that drives him to
+abominable cruelties.  It is some tigerish instinct he possesses; it
+makes him kill and destroy, it makes him inflict pain.  Oh, Roy, it is
+his pleasure--to inflict pain."
+
+"Lynch doesn't like it," said Sails, in reply to some question I had
+missed hearing.
+
+"Little good not liking it will do him," was Chips' opinion.  "He'll do
+what the Old Man wants him to do, just like the rest of us."
+
+"Has he ever used you--as victim?" said Newman, a new, hard note in his
+voice.
+
+"No, no, not in that way," answered the lady.  "It is to the crew he
+does that.  He has never hurt me physically."
+
+"But mentally, eh?" remarked Newman,  "He enjoys refinements of
+cruelty, also?  Mental torture, when he finds a mind intelligent enough
+to appreciate subtleties?  That is it?"
+
+"Yes, that is it," said the lady.  "It was horrible at first.  But
+afterwards, when I had found my work, I did not mind him very much.  He
+let me go on playing doctor to the crew because he thought it hurt me
+to see and handle those poor creatures.  Oh, it did hurt!  But the
+work, the being useful--it has saved me, Roy, it has kept me sane."
+
+"He's a good man, none better," said Chips, still talking about Lynch,
+"but he's too soft for a bucko's job in this wagon."
+
+"Five years; good God!  The prison was heaven compared to what you have
+lived through.  Oh, my poor darling!  And he--the vile brute----"
+
+"No, no, not that attitude!  You have promised--" exclaimed the lady.
+
+"He's not soft," Sails disputed with Chips.  "He's as hard as they're
+made.  But he's a square-shooter, Lynch is, and the rest o' us ain't.
+That makes the difference.  Now we got good reasons to do anything the
+skipper says, we being what we are, and him being what he is, and we
+knowing he can turn us up, and will, if we don't suit.  But Jim
+Lynch--not Swope, or any other man, has a hold on him."
+
+"No man, maybe," says Chips.  "But in the other quarter, now.  If Lynch
+ain't soft there, I'm a soldier."
+
+"Who ain't a bit soft in that quarter?" Sails demanded.  "I'm mighty
+sorry for her, same as you are, same as everyone is, save Fitz.  If it
+wasn't that Swope has me body and soul, I'd side with Lynch, b'Gawd, in
+anything he wanted to start."
+
+"Shut up!" exclaimed Chips.  "That's damn fool talk to come out o' your
+mouth."
+
+"Oh, you have softened me, Mary, you have unmanned me!" I heard Newman
+say.  "I came to this ship to kill, and now--there is little bitterness
+left in my heart.  I am only eager now to be gone with you beyond his
+reach."
+
+"I am glad, more glad than I can tell," the lady told him.  "His lies
+have ruined your life, and mine, but I do not want you to stain your
+hands with his blood.  Oh, there has been so much bloodshed!  You must
+not; you have promised!"
+
+"Yes, and I will keep my promise," said Newman.  "But you have
+promised, too, and you know how I qualified my promise.  We cannot take
+too many chances with him, and you know that he has no scruples about
+shedding blood.  He knows, he must know, that I do not intend to leave
+you in his hands; he must realize, also, that now he is not safe so
+long as either of us is alive and at large.  Why, dear, you know the
+trap he is preparing!"
+
+"Yes, yes, I know," was the response.  "But my prayer is that we may
+get away before he is ready."
+
+"It is my prayer, too," said Newman.  "I gladly give up my revenge for
+your sake, little love.  But I intend to protect you, and myself--that,
+too, is my promise."
+
+"Here comes Fitz now," said Sails.
+
+It was touch-and-go with discovery a second time as Mister Fitzgibbon
+stamped down the ladder.  But he was already bawling for the watch, and
+had his eyes fixed straight ahead; and immediately he went forward with
+the tradesmen at his heels.
+
+I waited until the mate's bellow sounded well forward, and I was sure
+my retreat would be unobserved.  Then I placed my lips to the opening
+in the sail-locker door and called softly, "Newman!  Come out of that
+at once; you are spied upon!"
+
+I heard the lady gasp, and knew my message was received and understood.
+I waited for no other response.  I scuttled away from that perilous
+spot as fast as caution permitted my legs to travel.  Jack Shreve was
+no Newman; I had not his cool nerve when it came to flouting hell-ship
+rules.  In truth, I was in a blue funk all the time I was aft, for fear
+I would be discovered.  And there was another reason for my haste in
+getting forward.  There was a sudden uproar in front of the foc'sle
+that bade fair to carry through the ship.
+
+There was trouble in the air; I could sniff it as I ran.  Although time
+enough had elapsed since the mate sang out his order to man the braces,
+the watch was not yet at the rail; and this was a strange thing in a
+ship where men literally flew about their work.  The trouble was in the
+port foc'sle; I could see the crowd bunched on the deck before the
+door, and Mister Fitzgibbon's voice had risen to a shrill, obscene
+scream as he poured blistering curses upon some luckless head.
+
+I dodged across the deck and around the starboard side of the deck
+house, and thus came upon the scene in a casual manner, as though I had
+just stepped out of my own foc'sle to see what was wrong.  I mingled
+with my watch mates, who had turned out to a man to watch the row.
+
+Over on the port side of the deck a royal shindy seemed to be
+preparing.  Aye, the mate had at last struck fire from his squareheads!
+They were on the verge of open rebellion.  The stiffs of the port watch
+had fallen to one side, and stood quaking and irresolute, but the
+squareheads, all of them, were bunched squarely between the mate and
+the foc'sle door, and to the mate's stream of curses they interposed a
+wall of their own oaths.  Mister Fitzgibbon had his right hand in his
+coat pocket, and all hands knew that hand was closed about the butt of
+a revolver; moreover, the tradesmen stood on either side of him,
+prepared to back him up in whatever course he chose to take.  They were
+good men, those tradesmen, fighting men, and skilled in just such
+battles as this promised to be.  The port watch Sails, who stood
+nearest to me, was armed with a heavy sheet pin, and he stood with his
+face half turned towards the starboard side.  Aye, they were canny
+fighters--if it came to blows they would not be taken in the flank by
+surprise.
+
+Mister Fitzgibbon was swearing over the heads of the squareheads.  He
+threw his words into foc'sle.  He was calling upon Holy Joe, the
+parson, to come out of it blasted quick and be skinned alive, b'Gawd!
+Broken bones were being promised to poor Holy Joe.  That was why the
+squareheads were showing fight--not to protect their own skins, but to
+save the parson from the mate's wrath.  For their little Nils was
+dying, and Holy Joe was by his side, praying for his passing soul.  As
+I learned afterwards, when the mate sang out for his watch to man the
+braces, all jumped to obey save the parson; he stayed with Nils.  His
+absence was noted immediately, for the mate was lynx-eyed; and
+Fitzgibbon was all for invading the foc'sle and hauling out the truant
+by the scruff of the neck.  Aye, Mister Fitz was all for teaching a
+lesson with boot and fist, for Holy Joe was a small man and a pacifist,
+fair game for any bucko.  But the squareheads would not have it so.
+For Nils was dying, and Holy Joe was praying for his soul.
+
+Suddenly Mister Fitzgibbon stopped cursing, and in a voice that meant
+business, ordered the watch aft to the braces.  The stiffs tumbled over
+themselves in their eagerness to obey; but not a squarehead budged.
+They still stood between the mate and his victim.  So he drew the
+revolver out of his pocket, and pointed it at Lindquist.
+
+"Lay aft--or I'll splatter lead among you!" he said.
+
+He meant it.  He would have shot Lindquist, I am sure, for winging a
+man, or worse, meant little to the mate of the _Golden Bough_, and the
+squarehead bravely stood his ground.  But the threat to shoot into the
+men who were shielding him had the effect of drawing the parson out of
+the foc'sle.  He suddenly appeared in the lighted doorway.
+
+"_Oho_, that brought you out of it--_hey_, you sniveling
+this-and-that!" hailed Fitzgibbon.  He lifted his aim from Lindquist,
+and brought the weapon to bear upon Holy Joe.  "Step aft, here, you
+swab, or I'll drill you through, s'help me!"
+
+The words brought a menacing growl from the squareheads; there was a
+stir among them, and they seemed about to fling themselves upon the
+trio.  But Holy Joe checked the movement with a word.
+
+"Steady, lads," said he.  "No violence; obey your orders.  Spread out,
+there, boys, and let me through; I will speak with him."
+
+That was what he said, but it was _how_ he said it that really
+mattered.  Aye, Holy Joe might have been the skipper, himself, from his
+air.  He spoke with authority, in a deep, commanding voice, and the
+squareheads instantly gave him the obedience they had refused the mate.
+They did not, indeed, tumble aft in the wake of the stiffs; but they
+did spread out and make a lane through their midst down which Holy Joe
+advanced with quick and firm step.  Right up to Fitzgibbon he walked,
+and stopped, and said to the bucko's face,
+
+"Put away that weapon!  Would you add another murder to your crimes?"
+
+To me, to the mate and his henchmen, indeed, to all hands, it was a
+most astounding situation.  And perhaps the most surprising element in
+it was the fact that Holy Joe was not immediately shot or felled with a
+blow, and the additional fact that none of us expected him to be.
+
+It was the stiff, not the officer, who commanded the deck that moment.
+By some strange magic I could not as yet fathom, the little parson had
+assumed the same heroic proportions Newman had assumed the day he
+chased the skipper from the poop.  Oh, it was no physical change that
+took place; it was rather as if the man doffed a mask and revealed
+himself to us in his true self.  There he stood, a full head shorter
+than his antagonist, with his head tilted back to meet the larger man's
+eyes, and Bully Fitzgibbon quailed before his gaze.
+
+I watched the little man, awe-stricken.  I had been bred to worship
+force, it was the only deity I knew, and Holy Joe was in my eyes the
+symbol of force.  He radiated force, and it was a strange and wonderful
+force.  I had glimpsed this power in Newman; now, for the first time in
+my life I saw it fully revealed.  The only kind of force I had known or
+imagined was brute force, the kind of force Mister Fitzgibbon
+epitomized; but now, in this duel of wills that was taking place before
+my eyes, I saw another and superior power at work.  It was a force of
+the mind, or soul, that Holy Joe employed; it was a moral force that
+poured out of the clean spirit of the man and subdued the brute force
+pitted against him.
+
+"Put down that weapon!" Holy Joe repeated.
+
+Slowly, the mate lowered his arm.
+
+The parson turned to the squareheads; aye, he turned his back full upon
+the bucko, and the latter made no move against him.
+
+"Obey your orders, men," Holy Joe said to the sailors.  "Go to your
+work as he commands.  I will stay with the boy."
+
+The squareheads obeyed without question.  They knew, just as all of us
+knew, that their little champion was in no danger of mishandling, at
+least not at that moment.  They trooped aft, heavy-footed, murmuring,
+but docile, and joined the stiffs at the lee braces.  Holy Joe, now
+alone on that deck so far as physical backing went, turned again to the
+mate.  But indeed he needed no physical backing; his indomitable spirit
+had cowed the bucko.
+
+"Your men will give you no further trouble, sir; they are at their
+stations," said he.
+
+It was the first time he had used the "sir."  For an instant it seemed
+a weakening.  It gave Mister Fitzgibbon the heart to bluster.
+
+"I ordered you aft with the rest," he began.  "What d'ye mean----"
+
+"I have other work to do this watch--as you know," interrupted the
+parson.  He said the words so solemnly and sternly they sounded like a
+judgment; aye, and they nipped the rising courage of the mate.  He
+could only mumble, and stammer out,
+
+"You--you refuse duty?"
+
+Holy Joe was silent for an instant.  All of us were silent.  One could
+have heard a pin drop upon the deck.  Then, out of the port foc'sle, a
+dreadful sound came to our ears, a low, strangled moan.  It stabbed the
+vitals of the most hardened of us; with my own eyes I saw the mate
+tremble.  Aye, in some way Holy Joe had sent a fear into the brute soul
+of Fitzgibbon; in some way he had sent a fear into the brute souls of
+us all, and, at least in my case, a great wonder.  The pain-filled wail
+of Nils, coming as it did, seemed magic-inspired to light for me a
+universal truth.  I felt it crudely, saw it dimly, but there it was,
+dramatized before my eyes, the age-long, ceaseless battle between the
+Beast in Man and the God in Man, the resistless power of service and
+sacrifice.  Aye, and Holy Joe's softly spoken reply to the mate's words
+confirmed what I saw and felt.
+
+"You speak of my duty, sir," said he.  "I see it--and do it!"
+
+With that he turned on his heel and walked into the foc'sle.
+
+When he had disappeared something seemed to have gone from the air we
+breathed, something electric and vitalizing.  There was an immediate
+let down of the nervous tension that had gripped us, a common sigh, and
+a half-hysterical snigger from some fellow behind me.  Mister
+Fitzgibbon seemed to come out of a trance; he shook himself, and stared
+at Sails and then at Chips.  He glared across the deck at us of the
+starboard watch.  He even swore.  But there was no life to his curse,
+and he made no step to follow the defiant stiff into the foc'sle.
+Instead, he went to the job at hand, and quite obviously sought to
+regain mastery and self-respect by sulphuric blustering towards the men
+bent over the ropes.  He was a defeated man.  He knew it, and we knew
+it.
+
+A hand fell upon my shoulder.  Newman stood behind me.
+
+"A brave act and a brave man," said he.  "But they will not let him
+keep his triumph."  After a pause he added, "They dare not."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+I seized Newman's arm and led him aside, intending to impart my news.
+But eight bells struck, and while they were striking, Mister Lynch's
+voice summoned the starboard watch to assist in the job the mate had
+started.  We hurried aft with the crowd, and I found chance to say to
+him no more than,
+
+"Be careful; someone is spying upon you.  Boston told me--and I saw
+him."
+
+"Who?"
+
+"I couldn't see.  It was too dark, and he cleared out on the run.  Ask
+the Nigger."
+
+When we had belayed, the watch was relieved, and Newman went aft to the
+wheel.  Lynch kept the rest of us on the jump, as ever, and I had no
+chance to steal a word with the Nigger when he came forward.  At four
+bells I relieved the wheel.  I found Captain Swope and the mate pacing
+the poop with their heads together.   As I took over the wheel, Newman
+whispered to me, "Keep your weather eye lifted for squalls, Jack!"
+
+I did not need his warning; the mere presence of either of the pair was
+sufficient to keep any sailorman wide awake and watchful of his _p's_
+and _q's_ while steering her.  There was nothing uncommon about the Old
+Man's presence; he was in the habit of appearing on the poop at all
+hours of the night, though he never went forward.  But for the mate to
+give up his sleep in fair weather was unprecedented.  There was
+something in the carriage and attitude of the two, as they slowly paced
+fore and aft, or stood at the break staring forward, that gave me a
+feeling of impending disaster.  Aye, I could smell trouble coming.
+
+Captain Swope could smell it, too.  That is why he walked the deck with
+Fitzgibbon by his side.  I could feel the alertness of the man.  Yankee
+Swope had his finger upon the pulse of his ship.  A mutiny, however
+sudden, would not catch the master of the _Golden Bough_ napping.  That
+is what I thought as I watched him, and Boston's vague scheme became
+harebrained in my eyes.
+
+The second mate was seldom aft during the two hours I stood at the
+wheel.  The times he did appear, he engaged in conversation with the
+Old Man, beyond my hearing.  But near midnight be clumped aft
+hurriedly, bringing the tradesmen with him.  The strollers happened to
+be near me at the moment he appeared, and he came towards them,
+speaking.
+
+"Well, sir--he's gone," he said.
+
+So I knew that Nils was dead.
+
+"Very good," said Swope.  "And the hands?"
+
+"All quiet, sir."
+
+Mister Lynch's voice was quite respectful, but I fancied I detected in
+it a note of contempt.
+
+"There was danger of trouble, even before the boy went out," he went
+on.  "Morton stood by the door and heard it all."  This Morton was the
+sailmaker in the starboard watch.  "The big Cockney in the port watch
+was all for trouble, a rush aft of all hands; he said he had the
+backing of my watch.  The squareheads were willing; they want revenge.
+But the big jasper in my watch, Newman, went into the foc'sle and
+squelched the scheme with a word.  He clapped a stopper on the
+Cockney's jaw, and told the squareheads there was to be no trouble.  So
+there will be none, Captain."
+
+A black curse slid out of the skipper's mouth.  Aye, the man breathed
+fury.
+
+"So--he commands for'ard, eh?" he said.  "Well, I command aft."  He
+seemed to think over the matter for a moment, and arrive at a decision.
+"Well, Mister, if it doesn't happen to-night, it may happen another
+night," he said.  "Tell your men to keep their eyes and ears open.
+And--better have that body carted aft, and your sailmaker fit him to
+canvas.  We'll dump him at dawn."
+
+"Very good, sir," replied Lynch, and he went forward again.
+
+The Old Man and the mate immediately went into conference.  They moved
+over to the rail, and spoke in soft tones, so I overheard nothing they
+said.  A ray of light from the companion hatch fell upon them, and
+watching them furtively, it seemed to me that Captain Swope was laying
+down the law to Fitzgibbon, giving him certain orders, to which he at
+first objected, and then agreed.
+
+It looked wicked to me, this secretive conversation.  My excited mind
+saw evil in it.  I smelled evil, tasted evil, the very skin of my body
+was prickled with the air or evil that lay upon the ship.  A case of
+nerves?  Aye, I had nerves.  Most sailormen had nerves when they were
+within sight of Captain Swope.  This night he seemed to drench the ship
+with evil, it poured out of him as ink from a squid, it was almost
+something tangible.  Somehow I knew that Newman's long grace was ended.
+This black villain had prepared a net to trap my friend, and was even
+now casting it.  Somehow I knew that fresh wrongs and miseries were to
+be heaped upon the wretched foc'sle.  As I watched Captain Swope out of
+the corners of my eyes, God's truth, I was afraid to my marrow.
+
+Presently the second mate returned aft.  "You may have your trouble
+now, Captain, if you wish," he said in the same clear, carrying voice
+he had before used, as he approached the skipper.  "The squareheads
+won't give up the body.  They'll fight if we take it.  They say they'll
+drop him overside themselves."
+
+The captain appeared pleased with this news.  He laughed, that soft,
+musical little chuckle of his that contained so much malice and
+cruelty.  "Oh, let the dogs dispose of their own offal, Mister," he
+said, carelessly.  Then, when Lynch went down to the main deck, Swope
+spoke eagerly, though in low voice, to the mate.  Aye, the Old Man was
+gleeful, and the mate received his instructions with servile pleasure.
+Presently, they went below, and the yelp of the cabin boy--roused from
+sleep, doubtless, by the toe of the skipper's boot--and the subsequent
+clink of glasses, told me they were toasting the occasion.
+
+I was consumed with dread.  But just what to dread, I could not guess.
+
+The Cockney took over the helm at midnight.  I hurried forward, eager
+to see what was happening in the fore part of the ship, and anxious to
+speak with Newman.
+
+The air of unease, of expectancy, which I had felt so strongly aft, was
+even more evident forward.  My watch, though off duty, did not go below
+directly.  Men were standing about whispering to each other.  The wheel
+and lookout had been relieved, but the mate did not summon his watch to
+labor, as was his custom; he kept to the poop, and we heard not a peep
+from him.  The squareheads had taken a lamp from the lamp-locker and a
+sack of coal from the peak, and Lindquist had the body of Nils upon the
+forehatch preparing it for sea-burial.  He stitched away in silence,
+his mates watched him in silence.  But it was not a peaceful calm.
+
+I found Newman in the port foc'sle, talking to Holy Joe.  When I
+entered, I heard Newman say: "They are good, simple lads--use your
+authority as a minister.  Reason, command, do your best to convince
+them they must be obedient.  Tell them they will be the ones to suffer
+in case of trouble."
+
+"I will do my best," the parson answered.  With a nod to me, he went
+out on deck.
+
+"Who was he?" I asked, when we were alone.
+
+Newman looked blank.
+
+"The spy," I added.  "Didn't you ask the Nigger?"
+
+"Oh, that--I have been too busy to bother about it," was the careless
+response.  "It really doesn't matter, Jack; I dare say it was some one
+_he_ set to dog my heels."  He inclined his head aft to indicate who
+"he" might be.
+
+"But--remember what happened that night on the yardarm!  And--I heard
+some of you talk aft there; I couldn't help hearing!  I tell you,
+Newman, the afterguard is awake and waiting; the Old Man is afraid of
+trouble.  I think he is afraid you will lead the crowd, and try to take
+the ship."
+
+"No; he is afraid I won't," said Newman.
+
+I blinked.  The words struck me with the force of a blow.
+
+The big man smiled at my puzzled expression, and his hand clapped upon
+my shoulder with a firm, friendly pressure.  "Strange things happen in
+this ship, eh, Jack?" said he, in a kindly voice.  "No wonder you are
+stumped, you are too young and straightforward to be alert to intrigue.
+You do not understand, yet you are eager to risk your skin in another
+man's quarrel?  And you believe in me, eh, Jack?"
+
+I felt embarrassed, and a little resentful.  I did not like to be
+reminded so bluntly of my youth and inexperience.
+
+"You saved my life, and I don't forget a debt like that," I growled,
+ungraciously.
+
+Newman gave a little chuckle.  He knew very well it was liking, not
+debt, that made me his man.
+
+"I want you to know, Jack, that your friendship is a strength to me,"
+he said, with sudden earnestness.  "It is a strength and a comfort to
+her, too.  Your unquestioning faith in me has given both of us courage.
+You have helped me regain my own faith in men and in right.  Heaven
+knows, a man needs faith in this ship!"
+
+Oh, but I was exalted by these words!  I was in the hero-worship stage
+of life, and this mysterious giant by my side was my chosen idol.  The
+lady aft had quickened into activity whatever chivalry my nature
+contained, and it was pure, romantic delight to be told I had served
+her by loyalty to the man.  Aye, I felt lifted up; I felt important.
+
+"You can count on me.  I'll back you to the limit," I said.  Then I
+rushed on, eagerly, and blurted out what was on my mind.  "You are in
+danger; I know it, I feel it.  That Old Man is planning something
+against you.  Remember that night on the yardarm!  Remember the lady's
+warning!  Look at Nils!  I tell you, we'll have to fight!  You can
+depend upon me, I'll back you to the limit in anything.  So will the
+squareheads--you know how desperate and bitter they are.  So will the
+stiffs--they are just waiting for you to say the word.  Every man-jack
+for'ard will follow you!"
+
+He checked me with stern words.  "Put that thought out of your mind!"
+he exclaimed.  "There will be no mutiny, if I can prevent it.  If one
+occurs, I shall help put it down."
+
+I was astonished and crestfallen.  But after a moment he went on, more
+kindly.
+
+"I know you are thinking of my safety, lad, and I thank you.  But you
+do not know what you are proposing.  Mutiny on the high seas is
+madness, and these jail-birds for'ard would be worse masters than those
+we now have.  Besides, you do not understand my situation--an uprising
+of the crew whether or not led by me, is the very thing the captain
+expects and wishes.  You are quite right in thinking he intends to kill
+me--and not me alone--but at present he is checkmated.  I am an able
+seaman, I do my work and enjoy the favor of my watch officer, and both
+Lynch and the tradesmen revere the lady and hate, while they fear,
+their master.  But in case of a mutiny--why, Jack, those fellows aft
+would unite, and back up Swope in anything he chose to do.  Their own
+safety would depend upon it.  He would have his excuse to kill."
+
+"But if we win--" I commenced.
+
+"We would be murderers, and our necks would be forfeit," he
+interrupted.  "Put away the thought, lad, for only evil can come of it.
+A mutiny would mean disaster to the crew, to you, to me, and above all,
+to her.  For her sake, Jack, we must prevent any outbreak."
+
+"For her sake?" I echoed.  I was aghast.  Somehow, it had never
+occurred to me that the lady might be in any danger.  "You don't mean
+that she would be harmed!" I exclaimed.
+
+He nodded, and there crept into his eyes an expression grim and
+desperate.  "I have cursed myself for giving way to the storm of hate
+and passion that brought me on board this ship," he said, moodily.
+"And yet--it could not have been otherwise."
+
+He observed my questioning face, and added, "Swope knows we have talked
+together, she and I.  He knows he must extinguish us both if he would
+rebury for good and all the truth he thought was already buried."
+
+"His wife--his own wife!" I exclaimed.
+
+The words probed the quick.  For a minute Newman's reserve was gone,
+and the tormented soul of the man was plainly visible.
+
+"It is a lie, a legal lie!" he cried.
+
+He calmed immediately.  His self-control took charge; it was as if his
+will, caught napping for an instant, awoke, and drew a curtain that
+shut out alien eyes.
+
+I was dumb, ashamed and sorry to have unwittingly hurt my friend.  But
+now he was speaking again, in his accustomed sober, emotionless voice.
+
+"Of course, I trust you absolutely, Jack.  I'd like to tell you the
+whole story.  But--I am not free to talk----"
+
+"You don't have to tell me anything," I blurted.  "I know you are my
+man, and you know I am your man."
+
+"You _are_ a friend!" he exclaimed.  "But I will not sail under false
+colors in your eyes, lad.  I am a jail-bird, an escaped felon."
+
+"Oh, I knew all about that long ago," I said, carelessly.
+
+He looked his surprise.
+
+"I heard that bum's story through the wall, that night in the Knitting
+Swede's," I explained.  "I didn't try to listen, but I couldn't help
+hearing him.  About the frame-up they worked on you--Beulah Twigg, and
+Mary--that's the lady, isn't it?--and the one Beasley called 'he'--I
+know 'he' is Yankee Swope.  Oh, it was a dirty trick they played on
+you, Newman.  I'm with you in anything you do to get even."
+
+He shook his head, smiling.  "What a young savage you are, Jack!" says
+he.  "An eye for an eye, eh?  But you guess wrongly, lad.  That
+treachery you heard Beasley explain was but the beginning.  I was sent
+to prison for a murder, the brutal and cowardly murder of a helpless
+old man."
+
+"I know it was a frame-up," I cried.  "And, anyway, I don't care.  I
+know you're on the square, and that is all that matters with me."
+
+"If I were not, your faith would make me on the square," he answered.
+"But--I was not guilty.  I came on board the _Golden Bough_ intending
+to become a murderer--but that madness is past.  Now I am anxious to
+prevent killing--any killing.  Now I am determined to preserve peace in
+this ship.
+
+"For she is safe so long as I am alive, and he cannot easily dispose of
+me so long as the crew is peaceful.  You can understand that, can you
+not?  Angus Swope is a fiend; he is more than half-insane from long
+indulgence of his cruel lusts.  But he is cunning.  I am a menace to
+his safety, and now he knows that she is also a menace.  But he will
+not offer her violence or do her any harm while I am at large.  By God,
+it would be his death, and he knows it.  I give him no chance to strike
+at me alone and openly, so he is striking at me through the crew.
+
+"For he must consider the attitude of his second mate.  Lynch is her
+friend, remember that, Jack.  He is an honest man.  He is bluff and
+harsh and without imagination, as brutal a bucko as one is likely to
+find In any ship, but he is 'on the square,' as you put it.  Also, he
+has more than an inkling of the true state of affairs in the ship.  He
+knows who I am, and he guesses why the captain fears and hates me.  I
+wish I could tell you what he has done, and is doing, in my--no, in her
+behalf.  And in spite of his bucko's code.  He would not lift a finger
+to aid me in case of trouble (you remember the warning he gave us that
+day we were in the rigging) for he is an officer, a bucko, and I am a
+hand.  But he would not stand for another such attempt at murder as
+Swope made the night we were aloft.  He told Swope he would not stand
+for it, he would not keep silent.  It was a brave thing to do, to defy
+such a master.  This is Lynch's last voyage in the _Golden Bough_, as
+he well knows.  So our canny skipper set to work his crooked wits, and
+for weeks he has been fomenting a rebellion of the port watch.  Mister
+Fitz is a more pliant and obedient tool than Lynch."
+
+I was excited, wide-eyed.  For I was suddenly seeing a light.  The
+words I heard were truth, I knew.  It explained what I had seen and
+heard that night upon the poop.  This trouble that threatened was made
+to order, to the captain's order; even as Newman said.
+
+"Good heavens--then Nils' death--and the hazing"--I could not continue.
+The heartlessness, the malignant cruelty of the man who had ordered
+these things was too horrifying.
+
+"Nils' injury was unpremeditated, I believe," said Newman, "but leaving
+him die without attention or nursing was a calculated brutality,
+designed to inflame the boy's mates.  Fitzgibbon's bitter hazing,
+without distinction or justice, was for the same purpose.  They kept a
+close eye upon the boy's condition; they evidently figured that the
+hour of his death would be the hour of explosion.  As you know, it very
+nearly was--only the parson's courage averted trouble in the dog-watch,
+and but a little while ago I had to quiet a storm.  But the danger is
+passed now, I think.  The little fellow's mates are naturally quiet,
+law-abiding fellows."
+
+"The squareheads may be kept quiet," I said, "but how about the stiffs?
+How about Boston and Blackie?"
+
+An expression of disgust and contempt showed in his face as I mentioned
+the names.  "I will attend to them if they try any of their tricks," he
+said.
+
+"But they are, and have been, trying their tricks," I persisted, "and
+for some reason they are eager to have you know what they are up to.
+Boston told me to tell you."  I repeated Boston's gossip.  "He knew
+about the spy," I said.
+
+He nodded.  "I know; I have had an eye upon them.  What Boston told you
+about the treasure is quite true; the ship is carrying specie.  And
+they are precious rascals, capable of any villainy; I know them well,
+they--they broke jail with me.  But they have wit enough to know that
+their gang of stiffs could put up no sort of fight, unless backed by
+the sailors in the crew.  It is loot they are after, and there will be
+trouble from them before the ship makes port; but now we are in
+mid-sea, and they realize they would be quite helpless with a ship on
+their hands and no navigator.  That is what they want of me.  A pair of
+poisonous rats, Jack!
+
+"But they will keep quiet.  They had better.  I promised them I would
+kill them both if they disobeyed me!"
+
+I gazed at the big man with admiring awe.  He spoke so coolly, was so
+conscious of the strength and power that was in himself.  Here was the
+sort of man I should like to be, I thought, here was the true hard
+case, no bully, no ruffian, but a man, a good man, a man so hard and
+bright, so finely tempered, he was to the rest of us as steel to mud.
+Oddly enough, as I had this thought, it also occurred to me that there
+was a man in the ship who might with justice claim to be Newman's peer,
+another man of heroic stature--poor meek little Holy Joe.
+
+"If Swope does not interfere with the decent burial of that poor boy,
+there will be no outbreak," added Newman.
+
+"He will not interfere," I was able to assure him.  I repeated the
+skipper's words to Mister Lynch.  "'Let the dogs dispose of their own
+offal!' is what he said."
+
+To my surprise Newman was disturbed by this news.  He stared at me,
+frowning.
+
+"Swope said that?" he exclaimed.  "Now what is he up to?"
+
+He sat thinking for a moment, then he said:
+
+"The burial of Nils is the weak point in my defense.  If Swope offers
+an indignity to the boy's body, even I will not be able to restrain
+Nils' mates.  Surely Swope has guessed that.  I have planned to bury
+the lad from the foredeck just as quickly as preparations can be made;
+that is why Lindquist is at work on the forehatch.  If Swope is
+overlooking this chance, he must have something else up his sleeve."
+
+He got to his feet and moved toward the door.
+
+"Lindquist must be nearly finished.  I will carry out my plan at any
+hazard.  Common decency demands we should not let the boy be cast into
+the sea by the very men who murdered him."
+
+At the door we were met by Olson, one of the squareheads, come to tell
+Newman that all was ready for the burial.  So we joined the crowd, and
+Nils was put away, in the dead of night, by the light of one lantern
+and many stars.  The hum of the wind aloft and the purr and slap of the
+waters against the bows were his requiem.
+
+That scene left its mark upon the mind of every man who took part in or
+witnessed it--and every foc'sle man save the helmsman saw Nils go over
+the side.  It was already late in the middle watch, but no man had yet
+gone to his sleep; and, considering the habits of sailors and the
+custom of the sea, this single fact describes how disturbed was the
+common mind.
+
+Yet the putting away of Nils was peaceful.  We knew that the mate was
+not alone upon the poop, that the men aft were alert and must know what
+was going on forward; but, despite Newman's fears, there was no
+interference from that quarter.
+
+Nils' bier was a painter's stage, and four of the lad's shipmates held
+the plank upon their shoulders, with the weighted feet of the shrouded
+form pointed outboard.  The rest of us, sailors and stiffs, stood about
+with bared, bowed heads; aye, and most of us, I think, with wet eyes
+and tight throats.  It seemed a cruel and awful thing to see one of our
+number disappear forever, and Holy Joe's words, spoken so softly and
+clearly, were of a kind to squeeze the hearts of even bad men.  That
+parson had the gift of gab; he was a skilled orator and he could play
+upon our heartstrings as a musician upon a harp.
+
+Yet he did not preach at us, or even look at us.  He wasted no words,
+and the ceremony proceeded with the dispatch Newman desired.  All Holy
+Joe did was lift his face to the night and pray in simple words that
+Nils might have a safe passage on this long voyage he was starting.
+The words seemed to wash clean our minds.  For the moment the most
+vicious man in that hard and vicious crowd thought cleanly and
+innocently.  Our wrongs and hatreds seemed small and of little
+consequence.  Aye, while Holy Joe prayed for the dead we stood about
+like a group of awed children.  When he was finished praying, he
+recited the beautiful words of the Service, and raised his hand--and
+the pall-bearers tipped their burden into the sea.
+
+Silently we listened to the dull splash, silently we watched the four
+men lower the stage to the deck.  It was over.  The parson fell into
+step with Newman, and the two paced up and down, conversing in low
+tones.  The crowd dispersed.
+
+Some of my watch went into the foc'sle, to their bunks.  Most of the
+men sat about the decks, and smoked and talked in whispers.  But the
+topic of Nils was avoided, as was talk of mutiny.  The squareheads did
+not mutter threats, the stiffs did not curse.  The spell of the
+parson's words was still upon us, and peace reigned.
+
+Newman had won, I thought, and danger was passed.
+
+I found the Nigger seated upon the fore-bitts, whetting his knife upon
+a stone.  There was something sinisterly suggestive about his
+occupation at that hour; it was the first break in the strange calm
+which had fallen upon the crew.
+
+"Tell me, Nigger, who's the man that's spying on the big fellow?" I
+said abruptly, as I sat down beside him.
+
+Nigger did not pause in his work, but he turned his battered face to
+me.  A couple of days before he had fallen afoul of the mate's brass
+knuckles for perhaps the twentieth time since he had been in the ship,
+and his face was a mass of bruised flesh, a shocking sight, even though
+his color hid the extent of his injuries.
+
+The Nigger had been, perhaps, the worst misused man in the crew--and
+this notwithstanding the fact he was by far the best sailor in the port
+watch.  But Fitzgibbon hated "damned niggers," especially did he hate
+"these spar-colored half-breeds," as he was fond of calling this
+fellow.  I do believe he chose the Nigger for his watch so he might
+pummel him to his heart's content.  Beat him up he had, constantly, and
+without cause, and as a result Nigger had become a surly, moody man.
+
+"Who say dat Ah know?" demanded Nigger, in reply to my question.
+
+"Boston said so."
+
+"Dat man's too free wif his lip.  Ah don't tell him Ah knows who's the
+spy; Ah tells him Ah knows dey is one."
+
+I waited patiently, for Nigger's temper would not bear pressing.  He
+reversed his stone, spat upon it, and resumed his monotonous whetting,
+then, after looking around to make sure he could not be overheard, he
+explained what he did know.
+
+"Night befoh last Ah was hangin' 'round aft----"
+
+"What?" I cried, surprised.  "Hanging around aft--what for?"
+
+"Dat's my business," he told me, curtly.  Then, after a moment, he
+added, "But Ah don't care if yoh know, because Ah knows yoh ain't no
+snitch.  Ah was hangin' 'round waitin' to meet Mistah Mate when he
+ain't got them othah two debbils wif him.  Ah was waitin' 'round to
+meet dat man alone.  And he come to de break ob de poop wif de Old Man,
+and de Old Man say, 'Ah got a good man watchin' every move he makes; he
+can't turn around in de foc'sle wifout me knowin' it.  We'll be wahned
+befoh it happens.'  Dat's what de Old Man say to Mistah Mate.  And Ah
+knows he mus' be talkin' about de big fellow, and so Ah tells Boston
+about it."
+
+"But didn't you hear any names mentioned?" I asked him.
+
+"Dat's all Ah hears," he answered.  "Den dey went away."
+
+I was disappointed.  The Nigger's news amounted to just nothing; we
+already knew that a spy was watching Newman.  But indeed this fact
+seemed not so threatening as it had a few hours before.  Newman's
+careless contempt of the spy had made me contemptuous, too.  And,
+indeed, what could a spy report against the big man that could injure
+him?  Newman was openly working for peace, counseling obedience.  His
+actions invited scrutiny.
+
+I voiced this thought to my companion.
+
+"Well, anyway, a spy can't hurt Newman.  He is doing nothing underhand,
+or wrong.  He's keeping peace in this ship."
+
+Nigger gave a queer little hoot of derision.  "Does Ah look like
+peace?" he said.  "Dis am a debbil-ship; Ah tells yoh dey can't be no
+peace in dis ship nohow."
+
+I gestured towards the forehatch.  A dozen men sat upon it, quietly
+smoking and gossiping.  "The squally weather is past," I said.  "Those
+lads don't want trouble.  A few hours ago they were all for fight--but
+now they've settled down.  And don't you try to start trouble!  The big
+fellow wants peace, the lady wants peace, we must help them to keep
+peace.  Don't you want to help the lady and the big fellow?"
+
+"De lady been awful good to me," said Nigger, in almost a whisper.  "Ah
+gone crazy long ago if it ain't foh de lady."  He stopped his whetting
+and tried the edge of the blade with his thumb; then, suddenly, he
+reached out and clutched my wrist, and continued in a voice so charged
+with pain and grief, that I was appalled.
+
+"Ah'd do mos' anything foh de lady, but, Shreve, it ain't foh me, and
+it ain't foh any of us forward to say what's goin' to happen in dis
+ship.  Ah ain't no sea-lawyer; man and boy Ah've gone to sea twenty
+year, and Ah ain't nebber made no trouble in no ship, no suh.  But, oh
+mah Lawd, yoh knows what all's happened to me in dis ship!  Dey won't
+let me be a man.  'Yoh niggah, yoh black beast!'  Dat's what dey calls
+me, and dat's what dey makes me!  Ah wants peace, yoh wants peace--but
+does dey want peace?  No, suh!  Yoh say de ship peaceful now?  Dis am a
+debbil-ship, and dey's a king debbil aft!  And dey's a shark overside,
+and he wasn't waitin' foh what jus' went into the water, no, suh!  Yoh
+ebber sail out East?  Yoh ebber see de quiet befoh a typhoon, so quiet
+seems like yoh can't breathe?  Dat's de kind ob peace dat's on de
+_Golden Bough_.  Ah don' want to make no trouble no time, but, oh mah
+Lawd, when Ah does mah work right an' gets hazed foh it, when dat mate
+makes a beast out ob me--does yoh think Ah stand dat fohebber?"
+
+I had no answer of good cheer.  What could I say?  The man's wrongs
+were too bitter, his hurts too constant, to be glossed over or soothed
+by any words I could think of.  For I knew he still had weeks of brutal
+mistreatment ahead of him.  This Nigger was a man who would not,
+perhaps could not, cringe and whine--and so the mate was "breaking" him.
+
+But after all Nigger gave me the promise I was after.  "Ah nebber talks
+trouble.  Ah nebber wants trouble, and Ah nebber stirs up no trouble."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+The day following Nils' death was the most peaceful day we had had
+since leaving port.
+
+There was less cursing and driving from the men aft, and less wrangling
+among ourselves.  But it was a strange peace.  An air of suspense lay
+upon the ship; we went around on tiptoe, so to speak.  The quiet before
+the typhoon--aye, Nigger's phrase just about described it.  We went
+around telling each other that the trouble had blown over, and nothing
+was going to happen, and all the time we were watching and waiting for
+something--we didn't know just what--to happen.
+
+During the morning, Mister Fitzgibbon and his bullies came swaggering
+forward and into the port foc'sle.  Now that was a moment that very
+nearly saw the calm broken; for an instant I was sure there would be a
+grand blow-up.  For the mate was after Nils' belongings, his sea-chest.
+Even though it was the custom to take a dead man's gear aft, the
+squareheads resented the removal of Nils' effects.  Especially did they
+resent Fitzgibbon's part in the removal.  The lads in my watch crowded
+the door connecting the rooms, and the port watch men collected on deck
+and glowered in at the proceedings.
+
+The muttered curses grew in volume.  Oh, it looked like trouble, right
+enough---for just a moment.  Now that I was enlightened as to the
+skipper's game, I could see what the mate was up to.  He, who was
+largely responsible for Nils' death, had come forward upon this errand
+because he knew--or Swope knew--his presence would enrage Nils' mates.
+The Chinese steward, or the tradesmen alone, could have taken Nils'
+gear without raising a murmur from the squareheads, but quite naturally
+they would resent Fitzgibbon's pawing over the poor lad's treasures.
+
+But Newman took the sting out of the mate's visit, Newman and Holy Joe,
+working separately, but with a common end in view.  Oh, it was
+rich--but you must know the foc'sle mind to understand how rich we
+thought it was.  It was nothing subtle, nothing above our heads.
+Newman made us laugh, at the mate's expense, and--presto!--impending
+tragedy was turned into farce.
+
+Fitzgibbon, himself, was overhauling Nils' gear.  The tradesmen stood
+idle and watchful, one near either door of the foc'sle.  Out on deck,
+Holy Joe was busy; we could hear him urging his crowd to be quiet and
+peaceful.  Newman pushed through our crowd until he was fairly into the
+port foc'sle, and there he stood, filling the doorway, and effectually
+blocking any attempt on the part of those behind him to rush the room.
+
+Well, Newman looked down at the mate, and he commenced to chuckle very
+softly to himself.  After a moment we began to chuckle too, every
+man-jack of us.  We didn't laugh out loud--not one of us, except
+Newman, who had the nerve to laugh out loud at Blackjack
+Fitzgibbon--but, hidden behind the big fellow's back, we chuckled and
+snickered readily enough.  And the butt of the joke was the mate,
+himself.
+
+It was the mate's behavior.  Anybody could see with half an eye that
+the fellow was looking for trouble.  He expected trouble, and it made
+him nervous.  He was determined he would be ready for it.  So he kept
+one hand in his coat pocket, where he carried his gun, and tried with
+the other hand to cast adrift the lashings that held the chest to the
+bunk posts.  It was a two-hand job, and he made slow work of it.  But
+he wouldn't call one of his tradesmen to help him--that would have left
+a door unguarded, you see.  Nor could he fix his attention upon the
+job; he kept twisting his ugly face this way and that way until his
+head looked as if it were on a pivot.
+
+If Newman hadn't pointed it out, I doubt if any of us would have seen
+the humor of the scene.  But Newman's chuckle forced it upon us.
+Mister Fitzgibbon did look ridiculous--fumbling blindly with the ropes,
+and at the same time trying to keep both ends of the foc'sle in sight
+at once.
+
+"I'll lend you one of my hands, Mister," said Newman, suddenly.
+
+The mate glanced at him, startled, but before he could open his mouth,
+Newman stepped past the tradesman and bent over one end of the chest.
+"It's neatly wrapped; the lad would have been a good sailorman,
+Mister," he remarked as he undid the lashing.
+
+The mate realized he was at a disadvantage.  He glared vindictively at
+the big fellow, and snarled an oath in reply.  Then he drew a knife,
+and committed the lubberly act of cutting through the lashing at his
+end of the chest.  Newman had finished undoing the rope at his end, and
+now he stepped back into the doorway.
+
+I've never been sure, but I think Newman did it purposely.  The rope's
+end was spliced about the handle of the chest, and when he cast the
+rope loose, it trailed upon the floor.  Newman left the bight turned
+about the bunk-post, and in such fashion that it would tighten into a
+clove-hitch.
+
+Now that it was a case of our laughing at him, the mate was eager to
+get out of the foc'sle with as little loss of dignity as possible.  He
+started to walk away, dragging Nils' chest after him.  The clove-hitch
+checked him.  He jerked, with all his strength, and his strength was
+enormous--there was a crack like a pistol shot as the bunk-post
+snapped, the chest leaped like a live thing at the man, and
+Fitzgibbon's heels flew out from under him.  He landed upon his back,
+and the chest landed upon his stomach; and the wind went out of him
+with an explosive _oof_!
+
+Oh, it was rich.  Aye, it was the kind of joke the foc'sle could
+appreciate.  We did appreciate it.  We did not quite dare roar our
+laughter, but our chuckles would have shaken windows ashore.  Even the
+tradesmen grinned--behind their hands--as they lifted the chest from
+off their boss, and him to his feet.  He needed assistance, too; he had
+no wind for curses, and bent double nursing the injured spot while he
+grunted at the tradesmen to pick up the chest and carry it aft.  He
+paid no attention to the rest of us, but as he hobbled out of the
+foc'sle in the wake of the others, he gave Newman a look of such
+malignant hatred that we all knew just where he placed the blame for
+the episode.
+
+It did not bother Newman, that look.  He was on deck at the mate's
+heels.  Bravado, I thought at first, and I was close behind Newman, for
+I wanted to have a hand in any further fun.  He followed the mate aft,
+at a respectful distance.  Suddenly, I understood his action, for I saw
+how warily he was watching the hands, the port watch squareheads,
+particularly, who were bunched about the foredeck.  Newman wasn't
+following the mate to make sport for us; he was seeing that the mate,
+and the tradesmen, got aft without trouble.  He was seeing to it that
+no one on deck gave the bucko the excuse to start trouble that had been
+denied him in the foc'sle.  Aye, Newman was a wise lad; he would not be
+caught napping.
+
+Yet, despite his care, he nearly lost.  Mister Fitzgibbon brushed past
+Cockney, who was standing alone by the forward end of the deck-house.
+He croaked something at the man, an oath, I thought.  Cockney waited
+until he passed by, and then suddenly whipped out his knife and drew
+back his arm to throw it at the mate's back.
+
+Newman might possibly have reached Cockney.  But he did not try.
+Instead, he leaped in the other direction, a cat-like bound that took
+him over to the rail, as far away from Cockney as he could get.  It was
+Holy Joe who spoiled Cockney's knife-play.  He was standing behind
+Cockney, and, quick as Newman himself, he leaped forward and struck
+Cockney's arm.  It spoiled the aim.  The knife did not go in the mate's
+direction at all; it went flashing across the deck, and stuck quivering
+in the rail.
+
+"You fool!" cried Holy Joe.
+
+The mate wheeled about at that.  Aye, and he had his pistol half out of
+his pocket as he turned.  We could see by his face that he understood
+what had happened; indeed, he would have been blind not to have been
+able to read the meaning of the scene--Cockney still bent in the
+attitude of throwing, and the parson clutching his arm.  I expected--we
+all expected--he would shoot Cockney.  Surely, this was his chance, if
+he wanted trouble.
+
+But he hardly glanced at the man.  His eyes passed him by, and darted
+about until they spotted Newman lounging over there by the rail, with
+his hands in his pockets.  I guess it was an unpleasant surprise to
+find Newman over there, just opposite to where he expected to find him.
+The knife was sticking in the rail close by Newman's shoulder; there
+could be no connecting it and Newman--indeed, Newman's own knife was in
+plain view, in its sheath.
+
+Newman shook his head.  "Not this time, Mister," says he.
+
+The mate was stumped, and enraged.  His face grew actually purple with
+his choked rage, as he glared at Newman.  But he did not draw the gun
+free of his pocket; he had no excuse to offer Newman violence, and he
+did not deign to notice Cockney.  He did not even seem to notice the
+naked knife.  Slowly his hand opened, and the butt of the weapon
+dropped back into his pocket.  Then he turned, and went aft.
+
+I breathed again.  So, I guess, did the others.  When Fitzgibbon was
+beyond ear-shot, Cockney began to damn Holy Joe for spoiling his aim.
+But he didn't get very far with his tirade before Newman had him
+shouldered against the wall of the deck-house.
+
+Cockney changed his tune then, and mighty quick.  For Newman looked as
+he had looked that day in the Knitting Swede's; aye, there was death in
+his face.
+
+"Ow, Gaw', 'ear me.  Hi didn't mean no trouble!" Cockney bleated.  "Hit
+was the nyme 'e called me.  'E myde me see red, that's wot."
+
+"Would have been a damn good job if he'd landed!" cried Boston's voice.
+There was an emphatic chorus of approval of this sentiment from the
+hands, from squareheads and stiffs both.  "We'd have been rid of one o'
+them, anyhow!" piped up Blackie.
+
+The backing gave Cockney heart.  "Hi'd 'ave spliced 'is bleedin' 'eart
+but 'e spoiled me throw, the blarsted Bible shark, the----"
+
+"That will do," said Newman quietly, and Cockney shut up.
+
+"Cockney has the guts, anyway," says Boston.
+
+"The bucko hain't; he backed down," says Blackie.
+
+"That will do you," Newman threw over his shoulder, and they shut up.
+
+"If I were sure--" said Newman to Cockney.  He left the sentence
+unfinished, but he must have looked the rest for Cockney fell into a
+terrible funk.
+
+"Ow, s' 'elp me, Hi didn't mean no trouble.  Hit was the nyme 'e
+called--'e called me old mother hout o' 'er blinkin' nyme, that's wot!
+Hi didn't mean for to do it--but me temper--the wy the blighter's used
+us blokes--hand the nyme on top o' that----"
+
+"Well, remember, if I thought for a moment--" broke in Newman.
+
+I thought Cockney would flop at the big fellow's feet this time.  But
+he recovered quickly enough when Newman turned away, without further
+words, and without offering to thump him.  He slouched forward, and
+immediately became the hero of the hour with the gang.  Aye; I was even
+a bit envious.  It took a hard case to heave a knife at a bucko--even
+at his back.
+
+"But why didn't he shoot Cockney?" I asked Newman.  "Didn't he see him?"
+
+The big man glanced at Holy Joe, and smiled.  "Perhaps he didn't want
+to see him," he replied.
+
+And I was so thick-headed I didn't understand.  But it really was a
+peaceful day.  After Nils' chest went aft, we might have been a
+comfortable family ship so little were we troubled by the afterguard.
+Lynch, of course, kept his watch busy while it was on deck, but he
+didn't haze; and Fitzgibbon all but forgot he had a watch.  It was a
+queer rest.  It got upon my nerves, this waiting for something--I
+didn't know what--to happen.
+
+It carried over into the night, this unusual quiet.  Aye, Captain Swope
+kept the deck that night in the first watch, as well as Fitzgibbon, and
+not a single man was damned or thumped.  When we turned out for the
+middle watch, we found the port watch lads crowing that they had farmed
+away their hours on deck.
+
+Well, we didn't farm, by a long shot.  Trust Lynch to keep hands busy.
+It was rule number one with him.  He sweated us up in the usual style,
+yet his manner was milder than usual and he didn't lay a finger on even
+the most lubberly of the stiffs.  Aye, for the first time during the
+voyage--perhaps for the first time in the life of the ship--a full day
+passed in the _Golden Bough_ and not a man felt the weight of a boot or
+a fist.  It was an occasion, I can tell you!
+
+Yet, for all of the afterguard's surprising gentleness, that mid-watch
+was a nightmare to me.  Newman disappeared.
+
+Ever since the night at the beginning of the voyage when Captain Swope
+tried to snap us off the yardarm, I made it a practice to stick close
+to the big fellow during the night watches.  I owed him my life, and,
+anyway I was eager to give him the service of a friend, of a mate.  I
+was always dreading that Swope would try again some dark night, and
+with better success.  It is so easy to do things in the dark, you see;
+get a man separated from the watch, beyond the reach of friendly eyes,
+give him a crack on the head and a boost over the rail, and then what
+proof, what trace, have you?  Just a line in the logbook, "Man lost
+overboard in the night."  Aye, many a lad--and many an officer--has had
+just that happen to him.
+
+So it was that in the night watches I became Newman's shadow.  It was
+literally shoulder to shoulder with us, we handed the same lines, bent
+over the same jobs.  Newman never mentioned it, never asked me to stick
+close, but I knew he welcomed the attention.  He knew the danger of
+walking alone in the dark in that ship.  Mister Lynch kept his word and
+never again sent either of us aloft at night.  In fact, the second mate
+did more than that; from that night on, whenever Newman had a night
+wheel, Lynch stayed aft on the poop during the trick.  Oh, there was no
+friendship between the two; I know that for certain.  Lynch was an
+officer, and Newman just a hand.  But he was a square man, and he was
+seeing to it that Newman got a square deal, at least in his watch.
+And, I guessed, the lady had something to do with Lynch's attitude.
+She was not friendless in the cabin, as I had discovered.
+
+This night Newman had no wheel.  Neither had I.  During the first half
+of the watch we touched elbows.  As usual, the second mate worked sail
+and kept us dancing a lively jig.  He made work, Lynch did.  He would
+walk along the deck and jerk each buntline in passing--and then order
+lads aloft to overhaul and stop the lines again.  He would command a
+tug on this line, a pull on that; no sail was ever trimmed fine enough
+to suit him.  Oh, aye, he was but following his nature and training; he
+could not bear being idle himself, and he knew that busy men don't
+brood themselves into trouble.  And running a watch ragged was
+hell-ship style.
+
+We were aft on a job--brailling in the spanker, I recall--when I missed
+Newman.  An instant before we were together, we had handed the same
+line; suddenly he was gone from my side.  At first I thought he had
+passed around to the other side of the mizzenmast, for we were coiling
+down gear that had been disarranged during the job, and I was not
+worried.  But when the second mate ordered us forward to another job,
+my friend was not with the gang.
+
+The second mate left one of his tradesmen aft, and during the remainder
+of the watch kept us forward of the waist of the ship.  He drove us,
+kept us jumping, at perfectly useless jobs on the head sails.  It was
+as plain as the nose on my face that he was purposely keeping us
+forward.  Something was going on, aft there by the boat skids, by the
+break of the poop; it was a moonless night, but once or twice I saw
+shadows flitting about the main deck.
+
+I was in a quandary.  Something was going on aft--but what?  Newman was
+missing.  The bucko knew he was absent from the gang, he must have
+known.  Yet he ignored his absence.  Was it treachery?  Was Newman in
+trouble?  Had he and I been mistaken in our judgment of Bucko Lynch?
+Oh, I was tormented with fear--and with doubt.  I wanted to gallop aft
+and lend him a hand, succor him, at least help him to put up a good
+fight.  But I wasn't sure he was in trouble, that he would welcome my
+advertising his disappearance.  Perhaps he was keeping a rendezvous,
+with the second mate's aid.
+
+That was what the other lads thought.  Oh, aye, they missed him too.
+But they didn't have wit enough to realize that Lynch also had sharp
+eyes; they thought Lynch didn't know Newman was gone.  They thought it
+was a great joke, a score against the cabin.  They thought Newman had
+boldly slipped away from work to meet the lady.
+
+"The Big Un's queenin', b'gawd, right under the Old Man's nose!"
+That's how Boston put it.
+
+I did nothing.  I made no break.  Luckily.  At seven bells, Lynch
+marshaled us aft again, to set the spanker this time.  As we worked,
+Newman slipped into the group as quietly and unobtrusively as he had
+slipped out nearly two hours before.  Coiling down gear, I discovered
+that the running part of the spanker vang was off the pin, and trailing
+over the side.  It dropped down past the open and lighted porthole of
+one of the cabin berths.  Whose berth?  Well, I thought that Boston had
+the right of it.  Newman had been "queenin'," with his feet in the
+ocean, so to speak.
+
+But he had been up to something else, as well.  As he and I walked
+forward, after the watch was relieved, we were overtaken by Lindquist,
+who was coming from the helm.
+
+"Vat you ban doing mit da longboat to-night?" he asked Newman,
+curiously.
+
+"Nothing, lad.  You must have dreamed at your Sybeel--understand?" was
+Newman's prompt reply.
+
+It took a moment to filter into the squarehead's mind.  But he got it.
+"So--_ja_, it ban dream; I see noddings," he said.
+
+"And you say nothing?"
+
+"_Ja_, even to mineself I say noddings," promised Lindquist.
+
+At the foc'sle door, Newman placed a detaining hand upon my shoulder
+and held me back.
+
+"Was there much comment among the hands?" he asked.
+
+I told him what Boston had said, and that it was the common opinion.
+
+"That will do no harm," he remarked.  "So long as they did not see, or
+guess--yes, it is a good blind."
+
+I was a little resentful, and showed it.  "You know I don't want you to
+tell me anything you don't want to tell me, but I think you might have
+dropped a hint In my ear.  How was I to know that the greaser hadn't
+played a trick on you, and given you over to the Old Man?  I don't know
+what game you're playing, and if you don't want to tell me I don't want
+to know--but I tell you I came pretty near spoiling it, whatever it is.
+I was on the verge of going aft and raising a row, just to find out
+what had become of you."
+
+"Jack, it isn't my mistrust that keeps you in the dark," says he.  "You
+know I trust you absolutely.  But I cannot explain--others have that
+right.  But, lad, I can tell you this--things are moving, aft there,
+and the sky is brighter for me--and for her.  And, you must not worry
+about me if this should happen again, some other night.  I shall be
+safe; don't come hunting me, it might ruin everything.  You will know
+soon just what is happening.  And you already know, Jack, how I count
+upon you--and she, too.  If things should go wrong, if he outwits me,
+it is your head and arm I count upon to aid her."
+
+"Anything, any time," was my eager response.  "Oh, I want to help."
+
+I found my hand being tightly squeezed in his, and there was a little
+catch in his voice.  "A thick-and-thin friend, eh, Jack?  I've learned
+something about friendship since I have known you."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+This strange peace, this interlude of quiet, lasted for several days.
+It was a curious time, a period of uneasy suspense for me, for I could
+feel hell simmering beneath the smooth surface of the ship's life, but
+I could not see it, or guess when or where it would bubble over.
+
+Even Lynch toned down his adjectives, and slackened his driving.  He
+was commanded to do so by Captain Swope while the watch was within
+hearing.  The Old Man told him to "go easy with those boys, Mister;
+we've made it too hard for them this voyage."  Aye, that was a nice
+bitter pill for Bucko Lynch to swallow before his watch; oh, the lads
+enjoyed it, I can tell you.
+
+Fitzgibbon, the roaring lion, became the bleating lamb.  He hardly
+worked his men during those days, let alone haze them.  He let Nigger
+alone.  He stopped swearing at Holy Joe.  Why, a man might fancy from
+his manner that he had become afraid of his men.  Aye, a man might
+fancy from their behavior that the lot of them aft possessed a sudden
+fear of the crew.  Even the tradesmen were publicly ordered to treat
+the men with civility.  But I didn't fancy they were afraid.  I knew
+better.  It was part of the game Swope was playing.
+
+"I took the trick when Nils died," explained Newman, when I asked him
+what the new program meant, "and now our sweet captain is dealing a new
+hand, from a cold deck.  He is nursing the scum, because this time he
+will strike through them, instead of through the squareheads."
+
+By "scum," Newman meant our unsavory mob of stiffs.  And indeed they
+were being "nursed," and without even suspecting it.  Inevitably, the
+unwonted gentleness of the men aft was interpreted as weakness and
+fear, and of course their stiffs' courage mounted and slopped over.
+Aye, he was a canny brute, was Captain Swope; he knew just how to play
+such a crowd as we were.  And I think he thoroughly enjoyed such a
+cat-and-mouse game.
+
+There was valorous talk in the foc'sle, and half-veiled insolence on
+deck.  These cringing stiffs began to swank and swagger.  They began to
+bluster openly about what they could do and would do; they began to
+tell each other how easy it would be to "dump 'em over, and take charge
+o' the hooker."  That's the sort they were.  It took bucko methods to
+keep them decent.
+
+Blackie and Boston were plainly jubilant over this turn of events.  Now
+they were fairly shrewd men, even if they were damned rascals, and one
+would have thought they possessed sufficient insight to at least be
+suspicious of the skipper's sudden 'bout-face.  But they were not.
+They were just as convinced as the rest of the stiffs that the
+afterguard had suddenly become afraid of the foc'sle.  Just lack of
+imagination, I suppose; I've read that it is usually a characteristic
+of professional criminals.
+
+They ceased hinting darkly and whispering in corners, and came out
+fiat-footed with their great news.  Aye, and it was a weighty argument
+with the stiffs.  Even though they knew about it already--as most of
+them did--it was a delight to talk about it openly.  There was money in
+the hooker.  That is what made their tongues wag.  Aye, money; kegs and
+kegs of shining trade dollars, aft in the lazaret, to be had for the
+taking by lads with stiff backbones.  And their backbones were stiff
+enough for the job.  So Boston and Blackie told them, so Cockney told
+them, so they told each other.
+
+It surprised me that Newman ignored this state of affairs among the
+stiffs.  He could have clapped stoppers on Boston's and Blackie's jaws
+by just telling them to shut up.  They stood in such awe and fear of
+him.  He could have as easily silenced Cockney; aye, and the gang, too.
+We all stood in awe of him.  There wasn't a man forward who would dream
+of opposing him openly.
+
+But Newman was contemptuous of stiffs' talk.  "Oh, let them blow off
+steam," says he.  "Big talk, small deeds; that's their caliber, Jack.
+They'll have their sauciness hammered out of them quickly enough when
+Swope plays his next card."
+
+"Aye, but what if Blackie and Boston, or that Cockney, make trouble?
+They are bossing the stiffs."
+
+"Those two jail-birds know what I will do to them if they go beyond
+talk," said Newman.  "As for that Whitechapel beauty, he is quite
+harmless, I think.  They would not follow him into a fight; they know
+he is scum, like themselves, for all his bluster.  They would follow
+me, or you, if we led the sailors aft.  But so long as the sailors are
+quiet, there is no danger.  That scum would not fight alone.  And, as
+you know, our little friend has his Norsemen eating out of his hand."
+
+This last was certainly true.  By "our little friend" Newman meant Holy
+Joe.  The squareheads idolized him.  For one thing, his being a parson
+gave him, from the beginning, standing with them.  They were decent,
+simple villagers, with an inbred respect for the cloth.  But more
+important, was the service he had rendered their dead shipmate.  They
+were not the men to forget a thing like that, or fail to be impressed
+by the fine courage Holy Joe had exhibited when he faced the angry mate.
+
+Now there was a curious thing.  The decent men in the crew gave Holy
+Joe unstinted admiration; his bravery that day clinched his authority
+over the squareheads.  They would have done almost anything for him;
+aye, they loved the little man, and admired him.  Yet the stiffs were
+not much impressed by what Holy Joe did to the mate.  I guess they
+simply couldn't understand it.  But Cockney's trying to stick a knife
+into the mate's back quite captured their fancy.  Aye, that attempted
+murder was a great deed; it made Cockney their hero.  I won't say that
+the rest of us damned Cockney.  We were, after all, foc'sle savages,
+and our hatred of Fitzgibbon was very bitter.  But it took the stiffs
+to honor Cockney for that knife-play.
+
+Well, Newman might dismiss this fellow with a contemptuous word, but I
+couldn't.  Cockney had become a rival I must reckon with.  I didn't
+like the way he lorded it over the stiffs in my watch, even if the
+stiffs themselves did like it.  I didn't like the noise he made in the
+starboard foc'sle, or the hard case airs he assumed.  I was number one
+bully in my watch, and intended to remain so.  I was, in fact, cock of
+the crew (Newman excepted, of course) and I thought that Cockney's
+chesty boasting was in a way a defiance of me.
+
+No doubt I was right.  As I discovered in time, Cockney had a good
+reason behind his blatant tongue.  It was necessary that he accustom
+some of the crew, even a few stiffs if no more, to follow his
+leadership.  But he couldn't blow big in his own foc'sle, because Holy
+Joe wouldn't allow it; and he didn't dare lay a curse or a finger on
+the little parson because he knew if he did the squareheads would jump
+him in a body.  So he ventured into my bailiwick, hoping, I suppose,
+that the open support of Boston and Blackie, his size, which matched my
+own, and his newly got reputation as a bad man with a knife, would
+bluff me.
+
+It didn't.  His dirty and violent talk sickened and wearied me, and
+just as soon as I had a reasonable pretext I ordered him out of the
+foc'sle.  This wasn't as high-handed as it sounds, for Cockney had the
+gall one afternoon to leave the deck during his watch out, and break
+into my watch's rest with his obscene gabble.
+
+He was disposed to dispute my order, and the stiffs backed him up with
+talk.  So I turned out and turned to.  I slapped a few stiffs, and
+threw Cockney through the door.  He invited me out on deck, and of
+course I accepted.  We had a nice set-to before all hands.  Even the
+tradesmen came forward to see the sport.
+
+Well, Newman's estimate of the man was correct.  Cockney was scum,
+yellow scum.  His fighting methods were as foul as his tongue; he tried
+all of his slum tricks, the knee, the eye-gouge, the Liverpool-butt,
+and when he found I was up to them, and the stronger man in the
+clinches, he wanted to call enough.  But I was too incensed by this
+time to let him escape easily, and I battered him all about the
+foredeck.  Finally he turned tail and fled aft.  Of course I did not
+pursue beyond the deck-house.  His fleeing the battle really pleased me
+more than knocking him out.  I felt sure that such an ignominious
+defeat would cook his goose with the stiffs.
+
+It did.  Boston and Blackie stopped grooming Cockney for mob leader;
+they had seen that he lacked guts in a pinch, and that finished him
+with them.  The other stiffs still welcomed and admired him (for,
+although he was a good sailor, he was one of them at heart, and, after
+all, hadn't he tried to stick the mate?), but he was no longer their
+hero.  Aye, it was quite a fall for Cockney; he lost a lot of face when
+he ran away from my fists.  He kept out of my foc'sle thereafter.
+
+I mentioned that this fight started because Cockney came into our
+foc'sle during his watch on deck.  Now, that illustrates the surprising
+slackness of discipline in the port watch.  Just a few days before the
+mate was ready to shoot Holy Joe for going below during his watch on
+deck, but he never bothered his head about Cockney's much worse
+offense.  In fact, during these strange days he seemed not to bother
+his head about anything his men did.  He promenaded on the poop during
+his watches on deck, alone, or arm-in-arm with the captain, and just
+about left the ship to sail herself.  No wonder the stiffs commenced to
+believe they could take liberties; in fact, they could take them in the
+mate's watch, and get away with it.
+
+But they couldn't take liberties in the second mate's watch.  You bet
+they couldn't!  Bucko Lynch curbed his vocabulary and stopped using his
+fists, as the captain ordered, but he didn't stop working his men.
+There was no slackness in his watch; he kept us up to scratch.  That
+made the starboard stiffs especially bitter against him.  They felt
+themselves cheated of the easy times Fitzgibbon's men were having.
+
+But the sailors didn't feel that way about it.  They were worried, just
+as I was.  The sailors knew ships as the stiffs did not.  They could
+_feel_ ships.  Those dumb squareheads could not reason it out as I
+could (with Newman's assistance), but they could feel the undercurrent
+of intrigue.  They were glad to escape the thumpings to which the mates
+had accustomed them; but they were not satisfied with the new order for
+they could feel that this strange peace was unreal, unhealthful.  Aye,
+the calm before the typhoon.  They felt it just as I felt it, just as
+Nigger felt it.  As for pessimistic Nigger, so strictly did he mind his
+own business these quiet days he was like a dumb man, a silent brown
+shadow.  But he went on sharpening his knife.
+
+To heighten the squareheads' foreboding, and to scare the wits half out
+of us all, Nils' ghost visited the ship.  You know what sort of men we
+were in that foc'sle; save Newman and the parson, we were ignorant men,
+and superstitious.  We all believed implicitly in ghosts, I, and the
+squareheads, Nigger and Cockney, and even the stiffs who had not the
+sea in their blood.  Aye, even Blackie and Boston believed in haunts.
+It seemed reasonable to us that Nils should come back to the scene of
+his earthly misery.  Reasonable, and fearsome.
+
+Nils came at night, in the middle watch, always in the middle watch.
+That circumstance might have aroused suspicion in sceptical minds.  But
+we were not sceptical.
+
+Lynch had us busy forward this night.  Aye, it had become a practice
+with him to keep us busy in the fore part of the ship during the night
+watches.  One of his tradesmen, Connolly, kept the poop watch for him.
+No, we did not think this arrangement odd; we worked too hard to think.
+
+Newman had the first wheel.  At four bells, a lad named Oscar went aft
+to relieve the big fellow.  A moment later he reappeared forward,
+wild-eyed and spluttering his own lingo.  Oh, he was a frightened
+squarehead.  All we could understand of his speech was the word "Nils."
+
+The word was enough.  We didn't need the commotion and consternation
+among Oscar's countrymen to help us interpret.  He had seen Nils.
+
+"What's the matter with you?" demanded Lynch.
+
+Lindquist answered for Oscar.  Nils was at the wheel.  Oscar had gone
+aft to relieve Newman, and he had seen his dead shipmate at the wheel,
+steering the ship.  He was afraid to relieve a ghost.
+
+"Oh, rot!" says Lynch.  "Here, come along aft with me, the lot of you.
+We'll lay this ghost."
+
+Oscar did not want to go aft again, but he had to.  It was better to
+face a ghost than disobey Bucko Lynch.  That is what the rest of us
+thought, too.  We were all afraid to go aft, but more afraid not to.
+So we huddled close upon the second mate's heels, and clumped noisily
+upon the deck, as though to rout the wraith with our racket.
+
+Perhaps our racket did send Nils away.  It certainly aroused the men
+sleeping in the cabin, and the roundhouse.  But we saw Newman at the
+helm, not Nils.
+
+"Well, m'son, where's your ghost?" demanded Mister Lynch.
+
+Oscar was still too frightened to muster his scant English, but
+Lindquist talked for him.  "He say like dis, sir, Nils ban at da wheel
+when he koom aft, oond den he yump vrom der wheel oond run for'ard yust
+like da time da captain thoomp him."
+
+"Rot!" says Lynch.  "My man, have you permitted a ghost stand your
+trick at the wheel?"  This last to Newman.
+
+"Hardly a ghost, sir," answered Newman.  We could not see his face, but
+from his tone I knew he was smiling.  "Do I look like one?  Not yet, I
+hope.  I was just about to turn over the wheel to the lad, sir, when he
+shied--at the shadow of the mizzen stays'l I think--and rushed away
+forward."
+
+"What is wrong, Mister?" inquired the captain's soft voice.  Aye, we
+all jumped as if it were the ghost talking.  Captain Swope, with Mister
+Fitzgibbon behind him, had popped up from below as quietly as If he
+were a ghost.
+
+"Nothing wrong, Captain," replied Mister Lynch.  "One of my jaspers
+declared he saw the little squarehead's ghost dancing about the poop,
+and now the lot of them have nerves.  I brought them aft to teach them
+better in a peaceful way."
+
+This was a straight dig at the Old Man's "be gentle" orders, but it
+didn't pierce his skin.  Swope laughed, genuinely amused, his soft,
+rippling laugh that always frightened us so much.  "Peaceful, eh?  By
+the Lord, Mister, it sounded like an army overhead.  And it was no more
+than a ghost!"  He peered aft, and discerned Newman at the wheel,
+recognizing him by bulk, I guess, for the binnacle lights were half
+shuttered and Newman's face invisible.  But I'm sure he recognized him,
+for he pursed his lips in a way I had seen him do before when he looked
+at Newman.  He strolled away forward, to the break of the poop,
+glancing this way and that, and back again to the hatch.  "If it were
+moonlight, I'd say your man was touched," says he to Lynch.  "But I
+suppose he was half asleep and dreaming."
+
+"I'll wake him up and work the dreams out of him," promised Mister
+Lynch.
+
+"But no hazing, Mister.  The men are in bad enough temper as it is."
+
+Aye, thus to Lynch, as though the rest of us were beyond ear-shot.  But
+all the time his eyes were upon us, measuring the effect of his words.
+Oh, he was a sly beast, a "slick one," as Beasley said.
+
+"Which is the lad who beheld this--ghost?" he added.
+
+The second mate shoved Oscar forward so that he stood in the light that
+streamed up from the cabin.
+
+"So one little ghost scared you, eh?" says he to poor trembling Oscar.
+"Why, my man, if all the ghosts in this ship were to begin walking
+about, we living men would be crowded into the sea."  With that he went
+below, laughing, as though he had just made a fine joke, and leaving us
+more frightened than ever.
+
+The mate went below again also, but he wasn't laughing.  We sensed that
+the news worried Fitzgibbon, and that strengthened our conviction.
+Blackjack Fitzgibbon had cause for worry.  So we thought.  Wasn't it
+he, as well as Swope, who mishandled the boy to his death?
+
+That ended the scene aft.  Oscar relieved the wheel; he had to.  Lynch
+put the rest of us to work again, and during the balance of the watch
+we saw ghosts in every corner.
+
+When we went below at eight bells, we held a grand talk in the foc'sle,
+a parliament that practically all hands attended.  Aye, we were quite
+convinced that the ghost was abroad.  Oscar stuck to his yarn, and
+embellished it, and left no room in our minds for doubt.  Newman
+laughed at us, and denied the presence of a spook on the poop; that
+done he turned in and slept.  But his evidence didn't shake our belief.
+Oscar gave too many particulars.
+
+The compass had not been shuttered when he went aft to relieve the
+wheel, and he had seen Nils standing in the light.   He couldn't be
+mistaken.  "Yust as plain like a picture."  He knew him by his boyish
+stature, by his beardless features, by his clothes.  He was wearing his
+Scotch-plaid coat and red tam-o'-shanter; Oscar couldn't be mistaken in
+them, because he had helped Nils pick them out in a Glasgow slops shop
+"last ship."  Didn't his mates remember those togs?
+
+His mates remembered them.  So did the rest of us.  That coat and cap
+had hung on the wall opposite Nils' bunk all during his illness.  He
+was very proud of these colorful garments.  Of course, we told each
+other, he would appear in them after death.  And, of course, he was
+bound to come back.  Didn't murdered men always come back?  So we
+assured each other; and the older men began spinning yarns about other
+ghosts in other ships.  Aye, we talked so much we were afraid to turn
+in.  Captain Swope's words about the ghost crew in the _Golden Bough_
+impressed us mightily.  We told each other that many men must have died
+cruel deaths in this notorious hooker; very likely Nils' spirit was but
+one of many.  Some of the lads recalled mysteries of the night that
+they had encountered in this ship, shadowy things melting into
+darkness, strange noises, and the like; and always they had seen or
+heard these things aft, around the break of the poop or beneath the
+boat skids--in just about the spot where Nils had been beaten up, first
+by the skipper and then by the mate.  Aye, Nils gave us the creeps.
+Another herald of storm, I felt.
+
+Next night Nils did not walk, though the lads in both watches insisted
+they saw and heard things that were not right or natural.  The night
+following in the midwatch--our midwatch--half the watch swore they saw
+him flit across the main deck and disappear behind the roundhouse.
+
+The next night marked Nils' last and most startling appearance.  In the
+heart of the middle watch, while my mates were sound asleep, the ghost
+walked into the empty port foc'sle.
+
+That is, the port foc'sle should have been empty, since the mate had
+the watch out.  But it happened that Nigger, coming from the wheel,
+seized an opportunity to slip into the deserted room for a quiet
+smoke-O.  It was a liberty he was safe in taking, now that the bucko
+mate had reformed.
+
+My bunk in the starboard foc'sle was handy to the door connecting the
+two rooms, and when he burst terror-stricken through that door my
+unconscious head was right in front of him.  I awakened abruptly to
+discover Nigger clawing my hair; aye, and when I looked up and saw his
+convulsed face and gleaming, bulging eyes, I knew at once he had seen
+Nils.
+
+He was too scared to talk; he could only stutter.  "Gug-gug-gug-God!"
+But he pointed into the other foc'sle.
+
+Well, my bowels were water, as the saying is, but nevertheless I turned
+out promptly.  I had to.  Other men were waking up.  Even Newman, in
+the bunk opposite, had his eyes open; and he was regarding me in a very
+curious way.  So I couldn't hold back.  I was bully of the crowd, and I
+would not let the crowd think I was afraid to face anything, even a
+ghost.
+
+Out I rolled, and into the doorway I stepped.  There I stopped.  God's
+truth, I was frozen to the spot with terror.  For Nils' shadow lay
+athwart the floor of the port fo'sle, his moving shadow.  It was this
+shadow coming in through the deck door that had frightened Nigger.  He
+recognized the shadow as Nils because a tam-o'-shanter crowned the
+silhouette, and Nils had owned the only tam on board.
+
+I recognized that awful shadow, too.  But I saw more than the shadow.
+I saw a white hand appear on the door jamb.  A ghost-like hand, it was
+so white and small, a patch of plaid cloth, a little bare, white foot
+lifting above the sill, and then the tam and the white face beneath it.
+Aye, that white face with its great, staring eyes!
+
+So much I saw during the instant I stood in the doorway.  Then Newman
+pushed past me and crossed the port foc'sle in a bound.  He joined the
+white face in the other doorway, and disappeared with it into the outer
+darkness.
+
+Not a man save I--and Newman--had had nerve enough to turn out.  Not a
+man save I--and Newman--had seen that white face.  Even Nigger had not
+seen it; he had run out on deck through the starboard door.  But my
+watch-mates were awake and eager.  "Is it gone?" they chorused.
+
+"Yes," I answered gruffly.  I rolled into my bunk, and turned my face
+to the wall.  My wits were still spinning from shock, and I didn't want
+to answer questions.
+
+"Where did Big 'Un go?" came from Blackie's bunk.
+
+"How do I know?  Stow the guff, the lot of you; I want to sleep."
+
+But I didn't sleep.  I lay there thinking about the face I had seen.
+Nils' shadow, Nils' clothes--and the lady's face!  The ghost that had
+scared all hands was the lady dressed in Nils' clothes!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+The lady brought Newman bad news.  As I afterwards learned, the steward
+overheard a conversation between the captain and the mate, and reported
+it to her, and she immediately risked her masquerade forward to carry
+the tale to Newman.
+
+During the morning Newman said to me, "Watch your step to-day, Jack.
+Trouble brewing."
+
+I watched my step, but not until the middle of the afternoon watch,
+when I went aft to relieve Newman at the wheel, did I see any
+indications of a coming breach of the afterguard's own peace.  I sensed
+it then, before I saw it.  Aye, as soon as I stepped upon the poop I
+smelled the old air.  The very carriage of the officers said that the
+old times were back again.
+
+Newman gave me the course.  I repeated it aloud, as is the custom.
+Then he whispered, hurriedly.
+
+"I think he intends to lock me up.  Help Deakin keep peace for'ard.
+Remember, lad, my life--and hers--may depend upon it."
+
+He started forward.  I wanted to call after him, run after him, ask him
+a score of questions and directions.
+
+But I was chained to my task.  I dare not leave the wheel.  Neither
+dare I call out.  For Captain Swope had appeared on deck.  He stood
+lounging against the companion hatch, staring aft, in our direction.
+Bucko Fitzgibbon stood by his side.  They had suddenly appeared from
+below as the helm was changing hands.
+
+Aye, and as soon as I clapped eyes upon them I knew that at last hell
+was about to bubble over.  They had thrown off the masks of meekness
+that so ill fitted them.  Fitzgibbon was truculence personified.  The
+expression in Swope's face when he looked at Newman was so terrible it
+might almost of itself make a lad stop breathing--an expression of
+gloating, pitiless, triumphant cruelty.
+
+Lynch, in charge of the deck, stood apart from the others, but he too
+was looking aft, not at me, but at Newman.  There was something in his
+bearing also which declared plainly that some ugly thing was about to
+happen.
+
+Yet Newman was permitted to pass the companion hatch without
+interference.  In fact, the pair turned their backs to him.  I had, for
+an instant, the wild hope that Newman was mistaken in his fears.  But
+only for an instant.  Because, when Newman neared the forward end of
+the poop, the two tradesmen of the port watch suddenly popped up from
+the ladder and confronted him.  Sails carried a sawed-off shotgun in
+the crook of his arm, and Chips had a pair of handcuffs dangling in his
+grasp.
+
+Newman stopped short.  Who would not, with the muzzle of a shotgun
+carelessly pointed at his breast?  No order to halt was needed.
+
+Suddenly I saw through the skipper's game.  Aye, and the devilish craft
+of it horrified me, and wrung a cry of warning from my throat.  For
+when Newman halted, Swope and Fitzgibbon turned towards him, and, while
+Swope continued to lounge against the hatch, the mate closed in behind
+Newman, and I saw a revolver in his hand.  At the same time, the man
+with the shotgun said something to Newman, something that angered the
+big fellow, I could tell from the way his shoulders humped and his body
+tensed.  Squarely behind him stood the mate.
+
+Oh, it was a clever murder Yankee Swope had planned, a safe murder!  If
+Newman made any motion that could be interpreted as resisting arrest,
+and was shot in the back and killed--why, the officer who shot him was
+performing his duty, and an unruly sailor had received his deserts!
+That is the way the log would put it, and that is the way folks ashore
+would look at it.
+
+The second mate saw through the scheme, also.  I am sure he had no
+previous knowledge of it, for an expression of surprise and
+consternation showed in his face, and he threw up his arm in a warning
+gesture.  But it was I who warned Newman.  I sang out lustily,
+
+"Look out--behind you!"
+
+Newman looked behind him.  He threw back his head and laughed.  It
+amused him to see the mate standing there so sheepishly, with his
+pistol in his hand.  But I did not laugh, for Yankee Swope was staring
+at me, and there was fury in his face.  God's truth, my hair stood up,
+and my toes crawled in their boots!  Oh, I knew I had let myself in for
+it with that warning shout.
+
+But if Newman laughed, he did not venture to move.  He, too, saw
+through the skipper's plan, and by his action promptly defeated it.  He
+laughed, but he also elevated his hands above his head to show his
+unarmed condition and his pacific intent.  Then, ignoring the mate, he
+spoke to Captain Swope.
+
+"Am I to consider myself under arrest, Captain?"
+
+Swope turned his face to the speaker, and glad I was to be free of his
+gaze.  He was a furious man that moment; I could see him biting his
+lips, and clenching and unclenching his hands from excess of anger.
+Yet he answered Newman in a soft, even voice, and in the same
+half-bantering vein the big fellow had used.  He was a strong man, was
+Swope; he could control his temper when he thought it necessary.
+
+"Yes, my man, you may consider yourself under arrest!" he said.
+
+"Then you will notice I offer no resistance," added Newman.  "I am
+unarmed, and eager to obey all legal commands of my captain.  Shall I
+lower my arms, and permit this gentleman to fasten the irons upon my
+wrists?"
+
+"No less eager to break into limbo, than to break out of it--_eh_?"
+commented the captain.  "Yes, I grant you permission to be
+handcuffed--but not that way!--turn around, and place your hands
+together behind your back."
+
+Newman promptly complied with the directions, and the carpenter stepped
+forward and slipped on the cuffs.
+
+"Lock those irons tightly, Connolly," Swope directed the tradesman.
+"We have to deal with a desperate man, a tricky man, a damned
+jail-bird, Connolly.  Squeeze those irons down upon his wrists.  It
+doesn't matter if they pinch him."
+
+From where I stood I could not see, but I could imagine the steel rings
+biting cruelly into my friend's flesh.  I felt a rage against the
+captain which overcame the sick fear of what he might do to me.  But my
+rage was impotent; it could not help Newman.
+
+Mister Lynch tried to help him; and by his action indicated plainly
+what was his position in the matter of the arrest.  He crossed the
+deck, and examined the prisoner's wrists.
+
+"These irons are too tight, and will torture the man," he said to the
+captain.  "In my judgment, sir, it is not necessary to secure him in
+this fashion."
+
+"In my judgment it is," was Swope's bland response.  Then he added,
+"And now, Mister Fitzgibbon, and you, Mister Lynch--if you will escort
+this mutinous scoundrel below to the cabin, I'll see that this affair
+is properly entered in the logbook, and then we will put him in a place
+where he cannot work further mischief.  Connolly, you and your mate may
+go for'ard."
+
+A moment later I was alone on the poop.  So quickly and quietly had the
+affair been managed that none of the watch on deck seemed to be aware
+of it.  They were busied about the fore part of the ship at the various
+jobs Lynch had set them to.  But the tradesmen of the watch were not in
+sight, and I had no doubt they were forewarned, and had joined the port
+watch tradesmen before the cabin, to guard against any possible trouble.
+
+I wondered what to do.  Do something, I felt I must.  If I sang out and
+informed the watch, the afterguard would reach me and squelch my voice
+long before my mates could lay aft.  And indeed, laying aft in a body
+was what the crew must not do.  That would be trouble, mutiny perhaps,
+and Newman's injunction was to keep the peace.
+
+I could do nothing to help my friend.  But I felt I must do something.
+The cabin skylights were open, for it was tropic weather, and a murmur
+of voices ascended through the opening.  I could not distinguish words,
+but I felt I must know what they were saying to Newman, or about him.
+So I took a chance.  I slipped the wheel into the becket, and crept to
+the edge of the skylights.
+
+I could peek into only a narrow section of the saloon, for I did not
+dare shove my face into the opening.  They would have seen me.  But I
+could hear every voice, every word, and my ears gave me an accurate
+picture of the scene below.
+
+The first voice I heard was the voice of one of my foc'sle mates, and
+he was giving testimony against Newman.
+
+"'E was in the syl-locker mykin' hup to 'er," the speaker said, "an'
+tellin' as 'ow 'e'd lead the crew arft, and kill the hofficers, and
+tyke charge 'imself.  That's wot 'e says, s' 'elp me!"
+
+"Ah, yes, he was making up to her, eh?  And plotting mutiny?  And my
+wife lent herself to such a scheme, did she?"  This came in Swope's
+voice, soft, purring, the very tone an insult.  "So my wife was in the
+sail-locker with this convict, and he was making up to her?  Well,
+well!"
+
+"You know that creature is lying, Angus!" broke in another voice.  Aye,
+and I very nearly gave myself away by craning my head to see the
+speaker.  For this was the lady's voice, hot with anger and resentment
+and loathing.  "You know very well why I met Roy in the sail-locker;
+you know very well we were planning to avoid bloodshed, not cause it."
+
+"What are you doing here?" exclaimed the captain, with a savage edge to
+his words.  "This is a man's business, madam!  Return to your room at
+once.  Mister Fitzgibbon, take her to her room!"
+
+There was the sound of movement below.  A chair scraped.  Then Lynch's
+voice rang out sharply, "Stop that, Fitz!"  The lady's voice said, "You
+need not touch me, I am going."  A second later she spoke again, from a
+different point, and I judged her to be in the doorway of her
+stateroom.  "You, at least, Mister Lynch, will bear witness that I deny
+these charges against myself and against--against him.  They are lies.
+This spy is lying, my husband is lying.  I know the truth.  Do you hear
+me, Angus?  I know the truth, and you cannot silence me with lies!"  A
+door closed.
+
+"Now we will continue our examination," said Captain Swope.
+
+Just then I heard a faint slatting of canvas aloft.  I sped for the
+wheel, and when, an instant later, the tradesman, Morton, poked his
+head above the level of the poop, and looked aft, I had the ship steady
+again.  Morton's head disappeared, and after waiting a few moments to
+make sure he did not intend coming up on the poop, I returned to the
+skylight.
+
+My precious shipmate was talking again.  "Hi 'eard 'im sy in the
+Knitting Swede's 'ow 'e was shipping in this ship just to ryse 'ell."
+
+"He said that, did he?" commented Captain Swope.  "Now what have you to
+say to that, Newman?"
+
+For the first time I heard my friend's voice.  His words were cool,
+contemptuous.  Aye, they heartened me; they told me he was far from
+being defeated.
+
+"The rat lies, of course, as all of you know."
+
+"And you say that Newman has persistently endeavored to stir up the
+crew to acts of disobedience and violence?" continued the captain.
+
+"Yes, sir," was the answer.  "'E would sy as 'ow there was a lot o'
+money in the lazaret, and if we would follow 'im arft 'e would give hit
+to us."
+
+"Now I know that is a lie," broke in Lynch.  The second mate's voice
+was also contemptuous, but not cool; I could tell he was excited and
+angry.  "I've watched this crowd, Captain; I know them like I know the
+back of my hand.  This man, Newman, is the best sailor for'ard, and the
+strongest influence for peace.  He, and the little Holy Joe the crimp
+gave us, prevented a riot the night the boy died.  I know this fellow
+is lying, Captain!"
+
+"That will do, Mister Lynch," exclaimed Swope.  "I did not ask your
+opinion in this matter.  I would suggest, sir, that it is your watch on
+deck, and the ship may need your attention."
+
+"Very good, sir," retorted Lynch.  "But I wish to tell you this,
+Captain--I know this man is innocent of these charges, and I will not
+be a party to your action against him."
+
+"Have a care, sir; I am captain of this vessel," cried Swope.
+
+"I recognize your authority, but that does not alter my stand in this
+case," said Lynch.
+
+"That will do, sir; go on deck!" was the captain's command.
+
+I was at the wheel, and the ship was on her course, when the second
+mate appeared.  Oh, but he was in a towering rage!  He stamped the deck
+like a full watch.  He sang out to me, "Damn your eye, man, watch your
+wheel; the wake is like a snake's track!"  I answered meekly, "Yes,
+sir," and held her nose true.  He looked at me sharply, and I knew that
+he guessed what I had been up to.  But he said nothing more; instead,
+he stormed for'ard, and worked out his rage among the stiffs.
+
+I overheard no more of the proceedings in the cabin, for I did not dare
+leave the wheel while Mister Lynch was on deck.  But I was easier in my
+mind concerning Newman's fate, for what I had overheard convinced me
+the big fellow stood in no immediate danger of his life.  That Swope
+meant to kill, I had not the least doubt--Newman, himself, said as
+much--but the time was not ripe for that act.
+
+So I occupied myself with thoughts about the traitor in the crew.  At
+that moment Captain Swope was not the only man on board with murder in
+his heart!  My fingers pressed the spokes as though they had hold of
+the Cockney's throat.
+
+I cursed myself for a stupid fool not to have known Cockney was the
+spy.  I should have known.  He was that sort, a bully and a boot-licker
+by turns.  In the foc'sle he was more violent than any other in his
+denunciation of the buckos; on deck he cringed before them.  He had
+always fawned upon Newman, but I suspected he hated my friend, because
+of what happened in the Knitting Swede's.  But I had not suspected him
+of treachery to his foc'sle mates, because he was an old sailor and a
+good one, and there were plenty of stiffs on board more fitted, I
+thought, for spy's work.  But Cockney was the man.  I could not mistake
+his voice for another's.  He was even now down below bearing false
+witness against my friend.
+
+I watched the deck closely, and pretty soon I saw Cockney go forward.
+So I knew that the farcical examination of Newman was ended, and that
+he was probably locked up with the rats in the lazaret.  I promised
+myself I would have a heart-to-heart talk with Cockney just as soon as
+eight bells released me from the wheel.
+
+But when eight bells did go, I had something else to think about.
+Indeed, yes!  My own skin, no less.
+
+All hands were mustered aft when the port watch came on deck.  This was
+unusual, a break in routine, for it was not customary to call the crew
+aft at the close of the day watches.  Moreover, the men were herded aft
+by the tradesmen, who were armed.  Mister Lynch came up on the poop,
+and was obviously taking no part in the proceedings.  Oh, it was the
+end of the easy times, and all hands knew it.
+
+When the men were collected by the main mast, the little parson was
+plucked out of the crowd and ushered into the cabin, where the skipper
+and the mate awaited him.  Aye, that was the reason for the muster;
+Holy Joe must be punished for his defiance of Fitzgibbon.  Five minutes
+after he entered the cabin, he was thrown out upon the deck, bruised,
+bleeding and unconscious, and his mates were told to pick him up and
+carry him forward.
+
+The Old Man and the mate appeared on the poop immediately afterwards.
+The instant I clapped eyes upon Swope, I knew that my turn was next.  I
+saw it in his eyes, in his face and carriage.  He looked and behaved
+just as he had that day he attacked Nils.  He looked at me with a
+bright, cruel glare; he smiled, and licked his lips with his tongue.
+Oh, I was frightened; worse, I felt sick and weak.  And I felt anger,
+too; aye, there was rising in me a wild and murderous rage, which, if I
+let it go, would, I knew, master both fear and caution.  I kept
+repeating to myself during the few minutes of grace allowed me, "I must
+not lose my temper, I must not lose my temper."  For if I did lose my
+temper, and defy my masters with fist and tongue, I knew I should be
+beaten until I was physically disabled, perhaps fatally disabled.  And
+then who would hold the crew in check, who would labor to save Newman?
+
+The Cockney came aft to relieve the wheel.  There was a smirk on his
+face, and a swagger in his walk, as he came along the lee side of the
+poop.  I noticed him leer confidentially at the mate, as he passed that
+worthy.  That Cockney thought himself a very clever fellow, no doubt,
+having been taken into the confidence of the ship's masters, having
+been assigned to do their secret dirty work.  It was all I could do to
+keep from flying at his throat, when he came within reach of my arms.
+
+He murmured some hypocritical words as he stepped into my place.  He
+was a good dissembler.
+
+"My heye, but poor 'Oly Joe caught it," says he.  "They bloomin' near
+skinned 'im alive.  They 'arve Newman in the lazaret.  Blimme, Shreve,
+we got to do somethink abaht it!"
+
+The answer he got was a grunt.  My mind and eyes were on the officers.
+I started forward, saying to myself, "I must not lose my temper."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+"Not so fast, my lad.  I think I should like to look you over."
+
+These were the words with which Captain Swope arrested my progress.  He
+had permitted me to almost reach the ladder leading to the main deck,
+before he hailed.  The cat and the mouse; aye, that was it!  He must play
+with his prey.  Such teasing gave him pleasure.
+
+I stopped, of course, and turned, and faced him.  Never did Captain Swope
+remind me more of a cat than that instant, when I met his glittering,
+pitiless eyes, and saw his smiling, red-lipped mouth, and listened to his
+soft, purring voice.  I was his mouse, helpless, trapped.  God's truth, I
+felt like one!
+
+He looked me over slowly, from head to foot.  The mate walked around
+behind me, and I knew the attack would come from that direction.  Swope
+knew that I knew it; that is why he held my eyes to the front with his
+deliberate and insulting inspection.  The cat and the mouse--he would
+enjoy my nervousness.
+
+I think I disappointed him, for I tried hard to appear unconcerned.  So,
+finally, he spoke again.
+
+"What is your name?"
+
+"Jack S-hreve, sir," I answered.
+
+"Shreve?  Now, what signboard did you rob?  Shreve is a good name, too
+good for a foc'sle rat.  Did you come by it honestly?  Did you have a
+father by that name?  I dare say not.  A gutter product would not know
+his father, _eh_, my lad?"
+
+There was no mistaking the deliberate intent of the insult, or its foul
+meaning.  Despite my efforts, I felt the blood in my cheeks, and my
+fingers clenched of their own accord.   I thought how white was Yankee
+Swope's neck, and how near, and how easily I could reach out and choke
+the vile words in his throat.  I very nearly lost my temper--and with it,
+my life, and, I think, the other two lives, which I actually valued above
+my own.
+
+The thing which saved me was the glimpse of a cold, speculative gleam in
+my tormentor's eyes.  It was the mere shadow of an expression, but it
+acted like cold water upon my hot thoughts.  I divined, suddenly, that
+something more than sport was behind the captain's insults.  He wanted me
+to blow up in a great rage, and attack him, or the mate.  I suddenly knew
+this was so, and the danger of my losing my temper was past.
+
+I lowered my eyes, afraid their expression would betray my knowledge, and
+said submissively, "Yes, sir, I guess so, sir."
+
+"I was told you had a long tongue, but you do not seem very glib this
+minute," Captain Swope went on.  "You've taken a reef in it, _eh_,
+Shreve?"
+
+I said, "Yes, sir."
+
+"But you forgot to take a reef in it awhile back, didn't you?"
+
+I knew he was referring to the shout that warned Newman.  I did not
+venture a reply.
+
+"So now you have put your tongue in gaskets," he commented, after a
+pause.  "Too bad you didn't do it before.  A long tongue is a very bad
+habit, my lad, and I do not allow my hands to have bad habits.  I correct
+them--so!"
+
+He struck me then, not a heavy, stunning blow, but a short-armed,
+slashing uppercut, which ripped the flesh of my cheek, and sent me
+stumbling backwards against the mate's body.  I took that blow meekly, I
+took Fitzgibbon's harder blow meekly.  I stood there and let the two of
+them pummel me, and knock me down and kick me, and I made no show of
+resistance.  I buried my head in my arms, and drew up my knees, and let
+them work their will on me.
+
+Oh, it was a cruel dressing down they gave me!  My face became raw meat,
+my body a mass of shooting pains.  I took it meekly.  I tried to guard my
+vitals, and my addled, star-riddled wits clung to the one idea--"I must
+not lose my temper!"
+
+I took my medicine.  I did not lift a hand against them.  I grovelled on
+the deck like a cur, and did not fight back.
+
+It was hard to behave like that.  It was the hardest thing I had ever
+done--keeping my temper, and taking that beating without show of
+resistance.  I was a fighting animal; never before in my life had I
+tamely turned the other cheek.  Long afterwards I came to realize that
+those few moments, during which I lay on the deck and felt their boots
+thud into my flesh, were educative moments of vital importance in my
+growth into manhood.  I was learning self-control; it was being literally
+kicked into me.  It was a lesson I needed, no doubt--but, oh, it was a
+bitter, bitter lesson.
+
+They gave over their efforts, finally.  I had not much wit left in me,
+but I heard the captain's voice, faintly, as though he were at a
+distance, instead of bending over me.
+
+"There's no fight in this rat," he said.  "Might as well boot him off the
+poop, Mister, and let him crawl into his hole.  He's not dangerous, and
+the ship needs him as beef."
+
+No sooner said than done.  I had obligingly saved them the trouble of
+booting me very far, for I had been inching myself forward ever since the
+onslaught.  When the captain spoke, I was almost at the head of the
+ladder to the main deck--an instant after he spoke, I was lying on the
+main deck at the foot of the poop ladder, and all the stars in the
+universe were dancing before my eyes.
+
+I got dizzily to my hands and knees, and then to my feet, and staggered
+forward.  Captain Swope's soft voice followed me.
+
+"Next time reef your tongue before you open your mouth!" he called.
+
+I made my way into the foc'sle, and my watchmates grabbed me, and swabbed
+and kneaded my hurts, and swore their sympathy.  My injuries were not
+very severe--some nasty gashes about the head and face, and innumerable
+bruises upon the body.  Fortunately I was in no way disabled.  My bones
+were intact.  I was in far better case, they told me, than poor Holy Joe.
+He was lying in his bunk unconscious, that very moment; he had a broken
+arm, and most of his teeth were gone.
+
+I saw at once that the men were quite wild with rage and anxiety.  From
+the sounds that came in the foc'sle door, I knew that the mate was hazing
+his men.  Aye, he was going after them in the good old way, quite as if
+there had been no peaceful interlude.  I did not have to see the mates'
+men to know their temper; I could tell from the temper of my own watch
+how the other watch felt.
+
+It was a terrific shock to most of them, that sudden return of brutality.
+Aye, just in that I saw the devilish cunning of Captain Swope.  He knew
+what the effect would be upon the minds of the men of slackening his
+hell-ship discipline, and then, when the habit of passive endurance was
+weakened, suddenly tightening the reins.  He knew that then the bit would
+be well nigh unendurable.  Oh, Swope had calculated shrewdly; he foresaw
+the effect not only of an outburst of promiscuous brutality, but of the
+arrest of Newman, and the beating up of Holy Joe.
+
+I could see the effect at a glance.  The stiffs were panicky.  These
+valorous stiffs were glowering, really dangerous at last.  The
+squareheads were hysterical with rage.  The squareheads knew why Holy Joe
+had suffered--because of them, because of Nils.  Because of Newman, too,
+but they did not guess that.  Then, the knowledge that Newman was trapped
+was a heavy blow to sailors and stiffs alike.  They had all, consciously
+or unconsciously, depended upon Newman's sane strength.  With him taken
+from them they felt--every man-jack--that their backs were to the wall.
+
+Just as soon as the blood was washed out of my eyes, and I could see my
+mates' faces, just as quickly as the ringing in my ears subsided, and I
+could hear their voices, I knew that the moment was past when the peace
+could be kept in that foc'sle.  Perhaps Newman could have composed the
+crowd, but I doubt it.  The captain had succeeded in driving them too far
+and too hard, in frightening them too much.  He had won, I thought
+despairingly; he would get his mutiny.
+
+For it was now the elemental instinct of self-preservation that swayed
+the men and determined their actions.  Oh, there was plenty of sympathy
+for me, and for Holy Joe and Newman; there was rage on our account; but
+underlying the sympathy and rage was a very terrible fear.  It was a fear
+of death, a fear that each man felt for himself.  Self-preservation,
+that's it!
+
+My shipmates, sailors and stiffs, had reached a point where they were
+afraid not to take some violent and illegal action against the men in
+command of the ship.  Their long misuse, the wrongs and indignities each
+man had suffered, the fate of Nils, the events of the afternoon, had all
+culminated in the belief these men now had--good men and bad men both,
+remember!--that they must revolt, that they must kill the men aft before
+the men aft killed them!  There were other factors at work, of course,
+greed for gold and lust of revenge, but this simple, primal fear for
+their own skins was the determining factor in the situation.
+
+"By God, I never go on deck but I'm scared o' my life!" swore one of the
+stiffs, named Green.  And he voiced the common feeling.
+
+I was, of course, much concerned for the parson.  I went into the port
+foc'sle to look at him--and he looked bad, lying there unconscious.  The
+squareheads had washed his face, but had not ventured to touch his arm.
+His face was in a shocking state, and I feared his body might be broken,
+as was Nils' body.  He was much worse off than I; for he had not my iron
+muscles, to withstand hard knocks, nor my skill in rough-and-tumble
+fighting, which had enabled me to protect the vital parts of my body.
+
+"We'll have to get him aft, where the lady can attend to him--or else get
+her for'ard," I declared.
+
+"No chance," answered Boston.
+
+"If we take him aft dey ban kill him," asserted one of the squareheads.
+
+"She can't come for'ard; she's locked in her room," said another.
+
+"How do you know that?" I cried.
+
+"Cockney says so.  He was there when the skipper locked her in," said
+Boston.
+
+For an instant I forgot Holy Joe, and his evil plight.
+
+"What yarn did that Cockney bring for'ard with him?" I demanded.
+
+"Why, he was there when they got the Big 'Un," answered Blackie.  "He was
+helpin' the steward break out a cask o' beef from the lazaret, when they
+brought Big 'Un into the cabin, cuffed up, and with the drop on him.  He
+says the hen squawked, and the Old Man shut her in her room.  Then they
+kicked him out on deck, so he wouldn't see too much o' what was goin' on.
+He says they put the Big 'Un down in the lazaret, and they're goin' to
+croak him sure, and if we got any guts we'll go aft tonight and turn him
+loose.  That's what Cockney says."
+
+Well, I let myself go, verbally.  I said things about that Cockney, and I
+was only sorry Cockney was not there to hear them.  I knew most of the
+hard words of three languages, and I used them all.  Oh, it was a relief
+to give even verbal release to the ocean of hate and rage in my soul!  I
+told the crowd what I thought of Cockney.  Then I told them why.  I told
+them what had really happened in the cabin, what Cockney really was.
+
+They believed me.  They knew me; they knew I would not lie in such a
+case, they could not help but sense the sincerity of my loathing.  They
+knew Cockney, also.  They knew he was the sort to spy and perjure--a good
+many of them were that sort themselves!--and as soon as I paused for
+breath, this man and that began to recall certain suspicious acts of
+Cockney he had noticed.  Aye, they believed me, and the curses heaped on
+Cockney's head were awful to the ear.
+
+They had good reason to curse.  My disclosure gave them a fresh fear.
+Consternation was in their faces and voices, especially in the faces and
+voices of the stiffs.  I knew very well what frightened them.  Cockney
+had been most violent and outspoken among those advocating mutiny, far
+more outspoken than the cautious Blackie or Boston, and the disaffected
+had naturally confided in him.  I knew that every man in the crew who had
+expressed a willingness to revolt was known by name to Cockney (and
+without doubt to Yankee Swope) and these men now could not escape the
+feeling that they were marked men.  If anything had been needed to settle
+the conviction of the foc'sle that mutiny was necessary, this unmasking
+of Cockney supplied the need.
+
+I felt this, rather than thought it out.  It was in the air, so to speak.
+At the moment, I was too much concerned for the little parson to reason
+coolly.  Oh, I reasoned about it a little while later, not coolly
+perhaps, but certainly quickly, and leaped helter-skelter to a momentous
+decision.  But just then I thought about Holy Joe.
+
+I wanted to get his arm set, and his body examined.  I, myself, was not
+competent to do either.  The squarehead had spoken truth--it would be
+madness to carry the man aft for treatment; and I judged Cockney had
+spoken truly, too, when he said the lady was locked up.  That agreed with
+what I, myself, had heard, I appealed to the crowd.
+
+"We've got to get Holy Joe fixed up.  Any of you know anything about bone
+setting?  Who'll lend a hand?"
+
+To my surprise, Boston volunteered.  "I worked in a hospital once," he
+said.
+
+He set to work immediately in an efficient, businesslike manner.  I was
+astonished.  His fingers were as deft--though not as gentle--as Newman's.
+I thought, as I tore a blanket into strips, under his direction, how
+characteristic it was of the fellow to let a hurt shipmate lie unattended
+when he possessed the skill to help him.  Aye, that was the sort of scut
+Boston was!
+
+"A clean break; no trick to set it," he announced, after examining the
+arm.  Nor was it.  We cut up a bunkboard for splints, used the blanket
+for bandages, and triced the injured member in short order.  Boston was
+deft, but he didn't try to spare his patient any pain; when he snapped
+the ends of the bone together, Holy Joe came out of his swoon with a cry
+of agony.
+
+He half raised himself, and looked at us.  "Let there be no trouble,
+boys--for God's sake, no fighting!" he said.  Then he fainted away again.
+
+We undressed him, and Boston pronounced his ribs sound.  Then we carried
+him into the starboard foc'sle, and placed him in my bunk, which had a
+comfortable mattress.
+
+"Now you see what he got?" said Boston, wiping his hands on his greasy
+pants.  "And you see what you got.  And you know what happened to Big
+'Un.  Well, how about it, Shreve?  Do you stand with us?"
+
+"With the crowd, sink or swim--that's what we want to know?" added
+Blackie.
+
+I sized them up.  Sailors and stiffs, they stood shoulder to shoulder.
+There was no longer a division in that crowd.  And they looked to me to
+lead them.
+
+I was thinking, desperately trying to discover a course that would help
+Newman.  So I tried to put the crowd off.
+
+"You heard what Holy Joe said?" I asked.
+
+"He's balmy--and besides what d'ye think a Holy Joe would say?" retorted
+Boston.  "Now, here's the lay, Shreve--we got to put a stop to this sort
+o' work."  He pointed to the bunk that held Holy Joe.  "That means we got
+to take charge of this hooker," he went on.  "All hands are agreed to it.
+But where do you stand--with us, or against us?"
+
+I made my plea for peace, knowing beforehand it was useless.  "How about
+Newman?" I said.  "You know as well as I that the skipper is out to kill
+him.  And I have Newman's word for it that the Old Man wants to kill the
+lady, too.  He's just waiting for an excuse.  That's why he's dressing us
+down this way, and hazing us raw--so we'll mutiny, and give him the
+excuse he needs.  Can't you see that?"
+
+"He'll croak 'em anyway--and maybe we can save them," retorted Boston.
+
+"No, Lynch won't allow it," said I.  "He's for Newman and the lady.  The
+Old Man will not dare do it unless we give him the chance by attacking
+the cabin, because Lynch would testify against him at the Inquiry.  The
+Old Man has logged Newman as a mutineer, and our going aft would make him
+out one.  As it is, Lynch is standing up for him--and for us."
+
+But this was too much for the crowd to swallow.  Too many of them had
+felt the weight of the second mate's fist.
+
+"Lynch for us?  By God, when I have my knife in his gullet--then he'll be
+for us!" swore Blackie, and the chorus of approval which followed this
+statement showed what the rest thought.
+
+"The last thing Newman said to me, when I relieved him," I went on, "was
+a command to prevent this trouble.  He said his life, and hers, depended
+on our keeping quiet."
+
+"And how about us, how about our lives?" demanded Boston.  "That damned
+murderer aft is out to croak us, too, ain't he--all of us he can spare?
+Look what he's done already!  No, by God, we're going to put a stop to
+it--and we want to know if you are with us?"
+
+I tried sarcasm.  "I suppose you'll end it by walking aft and letting
+them empty their shotguns into you!  I suppose you'll chase them
+overboard, guns and all, with your cute little knives, and your
+belaying-pins!  Good Lor', men, have you gone crazy?  If I hadn't
+overheard Cockney, I suppose he'd have led you aft, and got half of you
+filled with shot.  As it is, they know you are talking mutiny, and they
+will be expecting you.  You can't surprise them--and what can you do
+against their guns?"
+
+Blackie cursed Cockney in a way to curdle the blood.  Then he made plain
+the fear that was driving the men.
+
+"They know we are talking mutiny--yes, and what's more, they know _who's_
+talking mutiny."
+
+"We got to do it now, guns or no guns--ain't that right, mates?" said the
+man, Green.
+
+"And the money, too!" added Blackie, artfully.  "Enough of it aft there
+to set us all up for gents."
+
+Boston plucked me by the sleeve.  "Me and Jack are goin' to have a few
+words private," says he to the rest.  "He's with us--no fear--a feller
+like Jack Shreve stands by his mates.  Come on, Jack."
+
+I went with him willingly.  I was anxious to hear what he had to say
+"private."  I was even more anxious to get away from the crowd for a few
+moments, and think out some scheme whereby I could avert the impending
+catastrophe.
+
+Boston led me up on the foc'sle head, and we sat down upon an anchor
+stock.
+
+"We ain't such fools as you think, Blackie and me," he commenced
+abruptly.  "We ain't goin' to face guns with knives--not us.  But guns to
+guns--well, that's different now, ain't it?"
+
+"What do you mean?" I demanded.  "Have you got a gun?"
+
+In answer, he lifted my hand and placed it over his dungaree jacket, I
+felt something hard, of irregular shape, beneath the thin cloth, the
+outline of a revolver.
+
+"It ain't the only one," he assured me.  "Two brace we came on board
+with--and we weren't drunk, you bet.  We hid them safe before them
+fellers aft went through the dunnage.  And Cockney didn't find out about
+them, either.  They don't know aft that we're heeled.  The rest o' the
+gang ain't acquainted with the fact yet, either.  We'll let them know
+when the time comes."
+
+He paused, and looked at me inquiringly.  "Well?" I asked.
+
+"Well!" he echoed.  "Well, just this--a gang that has guts enough to face
+shotguns with sheath-knives is a pretty tough gang, ain't it?  And it'll
+be a lot tougher when it finds out it has four guns of its own, and
+plenty o' shells.  And it kind of evens up the chances, doesn't it?"
+
+I was thinking fast.  All chance to keep the peace was gone, I realized.
+Unless----
+
+"We ain't goin' to let them fellers slaughter us; don't you worry none
+about that," went on Boston.  "This ain't the first gun-play me and
+Blackie has took part in, you bet!  He's a dead shot, and I'm a good one.
+We got it all planned out, Blackie and me.  We never intended going aft
+like the Cockney wanted us to.  We're goin' to lay low, behind cover, and
+pick 'em off--the mates, and old Swope, too, if he shows his blasted
+head.  Then, where will them sailmakers and carpenters be, with their
+boss gone?  They'll be rattled, they'll be up Battle Creek, that's where
+they'll be.  We can rush 'em then.  And if a few of our fellers swaller
+lead--why, there'll be the fewer to share the swag."
+
+"Newman--" I began.
+
+"We'll do the best we can for Big 'Un," says Boston.  "We need him.
+We'll try and get the Old Man first pop--and if we have decent luck
+plunkin' the mates, it'll be over so quick nobody can hurt Big 'Un."
+
+I thought, and was silent.
+
+"What's holdin' you back?" demanded Boston.  "I know you ain't afraid.
+Look here, Shreve, you know you can't hold the crowd back.  You and
+Blackie and me could all be against it, and still they'd go aft.  They're
+goin' to get Swope before Swope gets more o' them.  And if it's Big 'Un
+you're worryin' about--why, we got to do this to save him.  Look
+here--let me give you a tip, if the Big 'Un hasn't: When Big 'Un come on
+board this ship he found out somethin' from the skipper's Moll that he
+wanted to find out, and now, if he gets ashore alive with what he found
+out, there'll be a sheriff's necktie party for Yankee Swope.  That's what
+all this bloody business has been about.  You can lay your last cent that
+Swope will get Big 'Un, if we don't get Swope."
+
+"Boston, give me that gun," I said.
+
+He took a look at my face, and smiled, satisfied.  He drew the weapon
+from under his clothes, a long-barreled, heavy caliber service Colt's,
+and passed it to me.  I thrust it out of sight, beneath my own waist-band.
+
+"Now, I'm boss," I said.  "I'll give the word."
+
+His smile widened.  This was what he wanted, as I well knew.  Boston and
+Blackie could plan and instigate.  But they could not lead that crowd.
+The sailors despised them, the stiffs hated and feared them second only
+to the afterguard.  They needed me as leader.  They flattered themselves,
+I dare say, that they could control me--or extinguish me when the time
+came.
+
+For my part, I had made my decision.  It was a desperate, a terrible
+decision.  It was necessary that I pretend to fall in with Boston's plans
+if I were to execute my decision.
+
+"When it gets dark, I am going aft--alone," I told him.  "You and Blackie
+keep the crowd quiet, and forward of the house, until I return."
+
+"What you goin' to do?" he asked.
+
+"Make sure that Newman will be safe when we make the attack," I
+explained.  "We must make sure of that--he's our navigator."
+
+"That's so," he agreed.  "But how'll you do it?"
+
+"I'll kill Captain Swope," I said.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+I was in earnest.  I meant to do the murder.  Aye, murder is what the
+law of man would call it, and murder is the right term.  I planned the
+deed, not in cold blood perhaps, but certainly with coolness and
+foresight.  I intended to creep aft in the night and shoot down the
+captain.
+
+But you must understand my motive before you judge.  More than that,
+you must bear in mind my environment, my character and its background,
+and the dilemma which faced me.  I intended to become an assassin--but
+not for hate, or greed, or, indeed, any personal satisfaction or gain.
+
+I was, remember, a nineteen-year-old barbarian, The impressionable,
+formative years of my youth had been spent in deepwater foc'sles, among
+men who obeyed but one law--fear.  The watch, the gang, was my social
+unit; loyalty to a shipmate was the one virtue I thoroughly understood
+and respected.  And it was loyalty to Newman that determined me to kill.
+
+Newman was my friend--aye, more than that, he was in my youthful eyes a
+demi-god, a man to revere and worship above all others.  He was
+prisoner, helpless.  The crew were bent on mutiny; I could not stop
+them.  The mutiny was planned and expected by the captain; and its
+outbreak would be the needed excuse for the slaying of Newman, and,
+Newman said, of the lady.
+
+How could I save Newman?  That was my problem.  How indeed?  The evil
+choice was inevitably mine; and I considered it the lesser evil.  If I
+killed Swope, Newman would be safe.  Perhaps the mutiny would collapse,
+would never come off.  This last was something Boston and Blackie,
+blinded by their greed, quite overlooked.  But I knew it was hate and
+fear of Swope, rather than greed, that impelled the squareheads to
+revolt.  If Swope were killed, they might not go on with it, and what
+the sailors decided, the stiffs must agree to.  And in any case, Newman
+would be safe.
+
+I did not approach my task in a spirit of revulsion and horror.
+Indeed, no.  Why should I have felt thus?  In my experience I had not
+yet gathered the idea that human life was sacred.  Certainly, my
+experience in the _Golden Bough_ had not taught me that.  I confess,
+the job I planned was distasteful, extremely so--but, I thought,
+necessary.
+
+I planned Yankee Swope's murder in spite of self-sacrifice.  Aye, truly
+I did!  I dare say few acts in my life have had a finer, cleaner, less
+selfish motive.
+
+I did not expect to escape after firing the shot.  I expected the mates
+or the tradesmen would kill me.  True, I thought of hiding on the dark
+deck, and picking off the captain when he appeared on the poop.  That
+is what Boston and Blackie expected me to do.  But I dismissed this
+thought without serious consideration.  It was uncertain, and I meant
+to make sure of the brute.  Besides, it was, I felt, cowardly, and I
+would not be a coward.  I intended to get into the cabin and shoot
+Swope in his own arm-chair, so to speak.  Afterwards--well, they could
+do what they pleased with me.  My friend would be safe.
+
+So I lived through a few very exalted hours before the first night
+watch came.  Unhappy?  Not I.  In moments I touched the skies in
+exaltation.
+
+For I was the sacrifice.  I was the center of the drama.  I was Fate.
+I was a romantic-minded young ass, and the situation flattered my
+generous conceit.  I was tossing away my life, you see, with a grand
+gesture, to help my friend.  I was dying for my friend's sake.  My
+imagination gave my death nobility.  I imagined Newman and the lady
+remembering me sadly all their lives long, thinking of me always as
+their saviour.  I imagined my name on sailors' lips, in ships not yet
+launched; they would talk of me, of Jack Shreve, the lad who killed
+Yankee Swope so his shipmate might live.
+
+My resolution did not weaken; rather, it grew firmer with the passage
+of the hours.  Of course, I did not take the crew into my confidence
+(there might be, I thought, another Cockney among them), but I laid
+down the law to Boston and Blackie, and they promised faithfully to
+obey my injunctions.  They promised they would keep the men in check
+until I had completed my task.  They promised also to mislead the spy,
+and see that no man laid violent hands upon him.
+
+This last I considered important.  The crowd was eager for vengeance
+upon Cockney.  He had committed the unpardonable sin, he had betrayed
+his mates.  Blackie wanted to slit his throat, and drop him over the
+side; and the men voted an emphatic aye to the suggestion.  Sentence
+would have been executed as soon as Cockney came forward from the wheel
+had I not interposed my veto and given my reasons.
+
+It was not solicitude for the spy's life that influenced me.  I, too,
+considered he had forfeited his right to life by his act.  But I
+pointed out that offering immediate violence to Cockney might alarm the
+afterguard, and change their plan of action; moreover, we might use the
+spy to carry false tales of our intentions to the enemy.
+
+So when Cockney breezed into the foc'sle, at four bells, his reception
+in no way aroused his suspicions.  Everything seemed going his way.  He
+sympathized volubly with me, and would have awakened Holy Joe (who had
+dropped into a healing sleep, after regaining consciousness) to
+sympathize with him, had I permitted.  Aye, he was a good dissembler,
+was Cockney--but we matched him.  His mouth dripped curses on Swope and
+his minions, he exhorted us to "'arve guts" and rush the poop at muster
+time.  He was willing to risk his own skin by leading the rush.  "Wot
+did we think abaht it?"
+
+Boston told him we thought early evening a bad time for the adventure.
+We were going to wait until morning, until the beginning of the
+"gravvy-eye" watch, just before dawn.  That was the hour in which to
+strike.  Men slept soundest just before dawn; those who were awake were
+less alert.  The mutiny was timed for four A. M.
+
+"Hi cawn't 'ardly wyte that long, Hi'm that eager to get my knife
+'twixt that myte's bleedin' ribs," said Cockney.
+
+The Nigger had come in during the discussion.  He seated himself, and
+recommenced his favorite task of stropping his knife upon a whetstone.
+At the Cockney's last words he lifted his head.
+
+"Don' yoh touch de mate," he said to Cockney.  "Dat man's mah meat,
+yes, suh, mah meat!"
+
+Cockney disputed this.  He raved, and swore, and even threatened
+Nigger.  Aye, he made a fine bluster.  "'E wasn't goin' to give hup 'is
+chawnce at the bleedin' myte, not 'im!  'E 'ad a score to settle with
+that blighter, so 'e 'ad.  The Nigger could 'arve the bloomin' second
+myte, that's wot."
+
+Nigger was so incensed he got up and left the foc'sle, leaving the last
+word to the spy.  Nigger had brooded so much over his wrongs he was a
+bit cracked; he took no part in the councils of the crew, and did not
+know, I am sure, that Cockney had been unmasked as a traitor.  Else he
+would never have acted as he later did.
+
+It came down night.  It was a good night for my purpose, dark and
+shadowless, with a mere sliver of a new moon in the sky.  I had little
+difficulty in gaining entrance to the cabin.
+
+After the eight o'clock muster, when my watch was sent below, I slipped
+around the corner of the roundhouse, where the tradesmen lived (it was
+on the maindeck, between the mainmast and the after-hatch) and crouched
+there in the darkness while my mates trooped forward.  This roundhouse
+(which was really square, of course, like most roundhouses on board
+ship) was very plentifully supplied with ports.  Designedly so, no
+doubt, for it was the cabin's outpost.  There were two portholes in its
+forward wall, commanding the foredeck, and three portholes in either of
+the side walls.  The door to the house was in the after wall.  It was
+built like a fortress, and used as one.
+
+As I lay there on the deck, pressed against the forward wall, I saw the
+muzzles of shotguns sticking out of the portholes above my head.  There
+was no light showing in the roundhouse, but the tradesmen were in there
+just the same.  Aye, and prepared and alert.  They were covering the
+deck with guns; and I knew they would continue to cover the deck
+throughout that night.
+
+Oh, Swope was canny, as canny as he was cruel.  He would provoke
+mutiny, but he would run no chance of losing his ship or his life.  He
+was prepared.  What could a few revolvers do against these entrenched
+men?  My shipmates' revolt could have but one end--mass murder and
+defeat!
+
+So I thought, as I lay there on the deck, watching my chance to slip
+aft.  Swope's plan, Swope's mutiny, I thought.  Swope was the soul of
+the whole vile business.  His plan--and I was going to spoil it!  I was
+going to put a bullet in his black heart.
+
+I might have picked him off at that very moment, if I aimed carefully.
+For, as my mates' footsteps died away forward, I edged around the
+corner of the roundhouse, and saw the enemy standing on the poop.  The
+three of them were there, both mates, with the skipper standing between
+them.  I picked him out of the group easily, even in the darkness, for
+he was of much slighter build than either of his officers, and besides
+I heard his voice.
+
+"The rats have discovered some courage--but they'll lose it soon
+enough, when they face our reception," I heard him say.  "But--no
+nodding to-night, Misters!  Keep your eyes and ears open!"
+
+Fitzgibbon mumbled something.  The captain laughed his soft, tinkling
+laugh.
+
+"I'm going down to take a look at him now," he said, and the three of
+them moved aft, out of sight.
+
+Aye, I might have picked him off then.  But I didn't even entertain the
+thought.  It was no part of my plan to slay from concealment.  I was
+the hero, the avenger, the saviour!  I meant to face him in his own
+lighted cabin.
+
+The door of the roundhouse was closed, so I did not fear the inmates
+would observe me entering the cabin.  The break of the poop seemed
+clear of life.  I scuttled on my hands and knees until I was past the
+booby-hatch; then I arose to my feet and flitted noiselessly to the
+cabin door.  I opened it just wide enough to admit my body, and stepped
+into the lighted cabin alleyway.
+
+My bare feet made no noise as I crept toward the saloon.  This was the
+first time I had set foot within the sacred precincts of the
+quarterdeck.  From the gossip of those who had been aft to sick-call,
+or to break out stores, I had some notion of the lay of the land, but
+not a very clear one.
+
+There were three doors opening upon the alley-way; the one on the port
+side was the inner door of the sail-locker, the two on the starboard
+side let into the mates' rooms.  That much I knew.  I also knew that I
+need not fear these doors, since both mates were on deck.
+
+But at the end of the alleyway was the saloon, the great common room of
+the cabin.  I paused uncertainly upon the threshold; I didn't know
+which way to turn for concealment, and I had to get out of the alleyway
+quickly, for any moment a tradesman might come in behind me.
+
+There were several doors on each side of the saloon.  To starboard, I
+knew, lay the captain's quarters, and, from the sounds, the pantry.  To
+port, I knew, lay the lady's quarters, and the steward's room.  But
+which door was which, I did not know.  I decided I had best duck into
+the captain's room.
+
+But before I could act upon this decision the forward door on the port
+side slowly opened, and Wong, the steward, stepped out.  I shrank back
+into the alleyway as the door opened, and the Chinaman did not glance
+in my direction.  His whole attention was riveted upon the companion
+stairs; Swope's voice sounded up there in the entrance to the hatch.
+
+Wong softly closed the door behind him, and ran on tiptoe across the
+saloon, disappearing into the pantry.  I did not hesitate an instant.
+Wong had not locked the door behind him, and his room would be handy
+enough for my purpose.  From it I could command the interior of the big
+room, and step forth when the moment arrived.  I crossed the corner of
+the saloon in a bound, and turned the doorknob as silently as had Wong.
+
+I opened the door and stepped in backwards.  My eyes assured me I was
+unseen.  I closed the door, all save a crack, through which I meant to
+watch for the coming of my victim.
+
+I heard a gasp behind me.  I shut the door tight and wheeled about--and
+found myself staring into the wide-open eyes of the lady.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+She was on her knees, at the other end of the room.  Aye, and it was a
+room, a spacious cabin, not a cubbyhole berth I had blundered into; the
+lady's own quarters, no less.  There was a lamp burning in gimbals, and
+its light disclosed to my first startled glance that it was a woman's
+room.  Aye, to my foc'sle-bred senses the quarters were palatial.
+
+The lady crouched on her knees, with her skirts spread wide, and her
+hands hidden behind her back.  When first her eyes met mine, I saw she
+was fear-stricken.  But immediately she recognized me the fear gave way
+to relief.
+
+"Oh, I thought it was--" she began.  Then she saw the revolver in my
+hand, and the fear leaped into her eyes again.  Aye, fear, and
+comprehension.  "That--oh, Boy, what do you mean to do?"
+
+I had been gaping, open-mouthed, too surprised to utter a sound.  But
+her swift recognition, and her words, brought me to myself.  Also, just
+then we heard Captain Swope's voice.  He was in the saloon, calling out
+an order to the steward.  We listened with strained attention, both of
+us.  He told the steward to open the lazaret hatch, and be sharp about
+it.
+
+I jerked my thumb over my shoulder, and nodded significantly to the
+lady.  "Don't be afraid, ma'am," I whispered.  "He isn't going to hurt
+Newman.  He isn't going to hurt anyone--not any more."  Oh, the dread
+that showed in her face when we heard Swope's voice!
+
+She brought her hands into view, when I spoke.  Something she had been
+holding behind her back dropped on the deck with a metallic clink, and
+she pressed her hands against her bosom.
+
+"You--you mean--" she began.
+
+I nodded again.  I really thought I was reassuring her, lifting a load
+of care from her heart.
+
+"I'm going out there and get him.  Don't be afraid, ma'am.  I won't
+make a miss of it.  He isn't going to hurt Newman, or you, or anyone,
+after I've finished.  And ma'am, please--will you try and slip for'ard
+and tell the men not to mutiny.  They'll listen to you, especially when
+you tell them the Old Man is dead.  They don't want to mutiny,
+ma'am--anyway, the squareheads don't--but they're afraid not to.  If
+you tell them I've killed him, and appeal to them, the sailors will
+keep quiet, I know; and they'll make the stiffs keep quiet, too.  It
+will save some lives, ma'am--for the crowd is coming aft to-night, like
+the Old Man plans, and the tradesmen are in the roundhouse, with guns,
+waiting for them."
+
+There was anguish in her whispered reply.  "Coming aft?  No, no, they
+must not!  It would mean--his death----"
+
+She stopped.  We listened.  We heard Swope again, out in the saloon.
+He was damning Wong for a sluggard, and demanding a lighted lantern
+that instant or sooner, or "I'll take a strip off your yellow hide, you
+heathen!"
+
+"No, not Newman's death," I answered the lady.  I turned, and laid my
+hand upon the door knob.  My weapon was ready.  This was the moment I
+must act.
+
+Before I could open the door, I felt the lady's cool fingers upon my
+wrist.
+
+"No, no, not that!  Not murder!" she exclaimed.  "Oh, Boy, you would
+not take life--you would not do that!"
+
+I turned and faced her, astonished.  Her eyes were but a few inches
+distant from mine, now, and to my amazement I read in their expression
+not approbation but startled horror.  And I could not mistake the
+meaning in her voice.  She disapproved of my killing Captain Swope.
+
+I was as shocked as she.  Here I had been happy in the consciousness I
+was playing the hero, I had believed myself cutting a very pretty
+figure indeed in the lady's eyes, and, instead--well, my bubble was
+pricked.  As I looked into the lady's eyes, I could feel my grand
+dimensions dwindling in my own eyes.  More than that, I began to feel
+ashamed.  Just why that look in her eyes should shame me, I didn't
+know.  My education had not progressed to the self-analytic stage.  But
+shame me it did.  I felt mean, vile.  I felt, without consciously
+reasoning about it, that murdering Yankee Swope would, perhaps, be not
+such a noble deed after all.  I confronted something that was superior
+to the barbarous moral code of my brutal world.  I discovered it in the
+lady's wide open eyes.  It vanquished me.  It took from me the feeling
+I was doing right.
+
+But I could not surrender thus tamely.  Indeed, the need for the deed
+remained as urgent.
+
+"But, ma'am, you know I must!" I said.  "You know--he will kill him!"
+
+Her little fingers were plucking at mine, which were stubbornly gripped
+about the revolver's stock.  "I know you must not!" she answered.  "You
+must not take human life!"  It was a commandment she uttered, and I
+took it as such.  Especially, when she added, "Do you think he would
+kill in that fashion?"
+
+That finished me.  Aye, she knew how to beat down my defense; her
+woman's insight had supplied her with an invincible argument.  I
+averted my eyes from hers, and hung my head; I allowed her to take the
+revolver from my grasp.
+
+For I knew the answer to her question.  "He" would not creep into the
+cabin and shoot Captain Swope.  She meant Newman, and I knew that
+Newman would scorn to do the thing I planned to do.  Kill Swope in fair
+fight, with chances equal?  Newman might do that.  But shoot him down
+like a mad dog, when he was unprepared and perhaps unarmed--no, Newman
+would not do that.  Nor would any decent man.
+
+I passed another milestone in my evolution into manhood, as I stood
+there, hangdog and ashamed.  I added another "don't" to my list.
+
+She brushed back the hair from my forehead.  Oh, there was magic in her
+fingers.  That gentle stroke restored my pride, my self-respect.  It
+was a gesture of understanding.  I felt now as I felt the first time I
+saw the lady, like a little boy before a wise and merciful mother.  I
+knew the lady understood.  She knew my heart was clean, my motive good.
+
+She held up the weapon she had taken from me.  "This--is not the way,"
+she said.  "It is never the way.  You must not!"
+
+"I must not," I echoed.  "Yes, ma'am; I won't do it now.
+But--what--how----"
+
+I floundered and stopped.  "What--how," aye, that was it.  If I did not
+kill Captain Swope what would happen to Newman?  That was the question
+that hammered against my mind, that sent a wave of sick fear through
+me.  If I did not kill Swope--then Newman was lost.
+
+"But--I must do something," I added, miserably.  "You know what will
+happen when the hands come aft.  It will be the skipper's excuse;
+Newman told me it would.  I can't see him butchered without doing
+something to prevent it.  Why, ma'am, Newman is my friend!"
+
+"He is my life," said she.  Her voice was so low I barely caught the
+words.  "But I would not buy his life with murder; it would lower him
+to their level."  She swayed, and clutched at my shoulder; I thought
+she was falling, and gripped her arm to steady her.  But she was not
+the swooning kind.  Not the lady.  She recovered herself instantly.
+She clutched my lapels, and laid down the law to me.
+
+"There must be no fighting.  The men must not come aft," said she.  "If
+they do, it will ruin everything.  Boy, you must stop them.  Deakin
+will help you.  You must hold them back."
+
+I shook my head.  "It's too late," I informed her.  "They will not
+listen to the parson, or me; they are too afraid."
+
+"But they must be stopped!" she cried.
+
+"Only one man can stop them--and that's Newman, himself," I replied.
+
+"What time have they set?" she asked, quickly.
+
+"Next eight bells," I told her.  "We gave the skipper's spy to
+understand it was timed for four o'clock in the morning; but the lads
+really mean to make the rush at midnight."
+
+"Then we have time," was her verdict.  "And you must help me."
+
+She pointed to the deck.  My eyes followed her gesture, and for the
+first time I examined the floor of the room.  The first thing my gaze
+encountered was a large carpenter's auger, or brace and bit; the next
+thing I saw, was a pattern of holes in the floor.  There were two rows
+of them, parallel, each about eighteen inches long, and the same
+distance apart.  The holes overlapped each other, and made a continuous
+cut in the deck.
+
+The lady thrust out her hands, palms up, for my inspection.  Upon each
+palm was a great red blister.
+
+"I was nearly despairing," said she, "I could longer press down hard
+enough.  But now----"
+
+She did not need to explain.  The sight of the holes and the auger told
+me enough to set me to work instantly.  Aye, I grabbed up the tool and
+turned to with a song in my heart and the strength of Hercules in my
+arms.  There was after all a chance to save my friend, and it depended
+in part upon my haste and strength.  A chance to save him without
+murder.
+
+The lady locked the door, and came and sat down beside me.  While I
+worked she explained the plot behind the task.  She talked eagerly,
+without reserve; it helped her, eased her mind, I think, to unload into
+my ears.
+
+I was boring my way to Newman.  My task was to connect the two rows of
+holes already bored through the deck with two other rows; when I was
+finished there would be an opening in the deck some eighteen inches
+square.  A manhole to the lazaret below, where lay Newman.
+
+But this was not all.  She told me there was a scheme to free her and
+him completely from the captain and the ship.  Well, I had guessed
+something like that was in the wind; but I did not tell her so.  She
+said that Mister Lynch was in the plot; aye, this hard bucko, this
+"square-shooter," as I had heard him called, was the instigator and
+prime mover in the affair.  One of the tradesmen was also friendly, and
+had brought the lady the tool I was using to cut through the deck.
+Wong, the steward, who was the lady's devoted slave, played a very
+important part.
+
+The plot was this.  We were to get Newman out of the lazaret (she
+always called him "Roy" when she spoke of him or to him; and when she
+mentioned Swope, it was always with a little hesitating catch in her
+voice) through this hole we were making.  She had the key that would
+release him from irons.  Wong had stolen it from the skipper's desk.
+
+When he was out of the lazaret, the situation would be managed by
+Mister Lynch.  The ship's longboat, in the port skids, was ready for
+the water.  They planned, said the lady, to launch this boat at night,
+in the second mate's watch, and she and Newman were to sail away
+together.
+
+For it was no haphazard plan born of desperation after Newman's arrest.
+Newman knew all about it.  It had kept him occupied this past week; it
+was responsible in large measure for the mysterious happenings of the
+past week, for Newman's absences, and for the lady's masquerade in
+Nils' clothes.  She had access to Nils' chest through Wong, who had
+charge of it, and she first dressed up in Nils' clothes so that she
+might, as she thought, move about at night on deck unobserved.  When
+she was observed, and taken for a ghost, both Newman and Lynch told her
+to continue the masquerade; it helped their business with the longboat,
+because it kept spying eyes away from that part of the ship.  They had
+been provisioning and preparing this boat for a week, working thus in
+the night, and by stealth.  Another day or two, and they would have
+been away.
+
+But the captain's blow this afternoon had jeopardized the entire
+scheme.  Indeed, it was on the verge of utter ruin.  For Newman was in
+the black hole in irons, and the crew were preparing to mutiny.
+
+It was this last, the threatened uprising, that terrified the lady.  It
+would finally ruin their chances of escape, she told me.  At all
+hazards, we must get Newman out of the lazaret before the sailors'
+attack occurred.  We must get him forward, she said, so that he might
+squelch the mutiny before it began.  Oh, Newman could tame Boston and
+Blackie, he could tame the stiffs and compose the squareheads; she had
+no doubt he could do all that, and instantly.  I was not so sure.  I
+didn't think that anything or anybody could stop the crew--unless it
+was killing Swope, which she forbade.  But I didn't say so.
+
+And in any event, the immediate thing to do was to release Newman.  It
+would at least give him a fighting chance.  She urged haste, and I
+worked like a fiend.  It was hard work.  The deck planking was three
+inches thick, and the number of holes I must bore seemed endless.  I
+was surprised at the amount of work already accomplished; it did not
+seem possible that this slender woman had done the two long rows of
+holes.  Nor had she, I learned.  Wong had bored most of them, during
+the odd moments he could slip away unobserved from his work.  The
+tradesman who furnished the tool had even driven a few.  The lady had
+done some of the work, as the condition of her hands proved.  But my
+coming was really providential.  She could never have finished the job
+on time, and now she knew of the crew's intention, she recognized the
+need of haste.
+
+I longed mightily for a saw.  Yet I knew I could not have used a saw
+had I possessed one.  A saw makes a carrying noise.  The tool I had was
+nearly noiseless.  I sweated and wondered, and now and then asked a
+question.
+
+I wondered what Lynch would do when the lads came aft.  Aye, and I
+discovered that this was one reason the lady was so terrified at the
+prospect of mutiny.  For Lynch, she was certain, would make common
+cause with the rest of the afterguard against any uprising forward.  He
+was helping her and Newman.  But he had no interest in helping the
+hands.  The hands were just hands to him, so much beef to work and
+beat.  He would never side with the foc'sle against the cabin.
+
+"I have sailed three voyages with Lynch," said she.  "He is a hard man,
+a cruel man; I have seen him do terrible things to sailors.  But he is
+also, according to his lights, a just man.  His brutality is always for
+what he considers the ship's welfare, never for any personal reason.
+You know how he has treated you, and Roy, and other men who know and do
+their work."
+
+"Fair enough," I admitted.
+
+"When my--my husband tried to kill Roy, that night you and he were
+aloft together, he violated James Lynch's very strict code.  He
+considered that attempt a serious blot upon his honor.  He told
+him--Angus--as much.  He told him he would not have that sort of thing
+in his watch.  It wasn't regard for Roy that made him say that; it was
+just that he thinks it is not right to kill or even hurt a man for
+personal reasons, but only when the welfare of the ship is at stake.
+And also, I think--well, he--likes me.  He is willing to help me.  That
+is why, a week ago, he came to me and offered his help.  He had
+discovered what my--my husband really intended doing; I think he
+overheard a conversation between my--between Angus and the mate.  He
+said we were both in danger, I as well as Roy, and that we must leave
+the ship.
+
+"Roy suggested the longboat, and he agreed.  Roy can navigate, of
+course, and there are islands not distant from our present position.
+So we have been preparing the boat, and Mr. Lynch planned to launch it
+some midwatch when the mate and--and Captain Swope were in their
+berths.  He hoped to get us away so quietly they would know nothing
+about it until hours later."
+
+"But surely Lynch didn't intend staying by the ship?  Why, when the Old
+Man found out he'd skin him alive!" I exclaimed.
+
+"He said not, and I think not," she said.  "He has sailed under my--my
+husband for years.  He is not like Mr. Fitzgibbon, and the others.  He
+does not fear my husband.  I think Angus fears him.  He knows things
+that have happened in this ship that my--my husband dare not have told
+on shore.  He refused when we urged him to come with us; he declared he
+would be in no danger, that he could guard himself.  I think he can."
+
+The lady clenched her hands, and her voice broke a little, as she
+disclosed the anxiety that was wrenching her soul.
+
+"But now--I don't know what he will do.  If we can free Roy in time; if
+we can stop trouble forward!  Then I know Mr. Lynch will keep his
+promise; he will lock up Angus and the mate, get them out of the way
+somehow, until Roy and I have left the ship.  But if the men rise
+before we have gone--then he will think his duty is to the ship.  He
+will not think of us, and my--my husband will do what he wishes.  Do
+you understand?"
+
+"Yes, ma'am.  But we have until midnight, or after, and it's just a
+little past two bells, now.  Ten minutes more, ma'am, and I'll have
+this hole open."
+
+But it took a little longer than ten minutes.  Three bells struck while
+I was still whittling and digging at the caulking in the seams with my
+sheath knife.  But the echo of the big ship's bell forward had hardly
+died away when I carefully, ever so carefully, lifted up and laid back
+the cut-away section of the deck.  I had left the caulking at one end
+nearly intact, so the solid piece laid back like a trap-door.
+
+The lady and I knelt by the side of the hole and peered down into the
+littered darkness.  We could make out, dimly, heaps of barrels and
+boxes.  A damp, chill air rushed up into our faces, carrying with it
+the sound of a scurrying rat, and another sound which made the lady
+gasp and tremble, and caused me to grind my teeth with rage.  It was a
+long, drawn-out sigh, the moan of a man in agony of flesh or spirit.
+It was Newman's voice.  Mingling with it, and following it, came the
+low, demoniac chuckle of Captain Swope.
+
+Lying flat and craning my neck into the hole, I saw, far over on the
+other side of the ship, the flicker of a lantern upon boxes.  I
+immediately drew back, got to my feet, and extinguished the lamp in the
+gimbals.  Then I snatched a blanket from the steward's bunk, and spread
+it across the hole.  That done, there was no danger of light or draught
+betraying us to the man below.
+
+I asked orders of the lady, and discussed ways and means with her.  It
+was decided at once that I should go below and effect Newman's
+release--and she gave me the small key that the Chinaman had filched.
+I was the stronger and more active, and could more easily make my way
+about in the dark, cluttered lazaret; besides, her work lay above.
+Swope was evidently pleasuring himself by viewing and taunting his
+helpless prisoner; he must be drawn away from this amusement.
+
+She could not go on deck herself, she said; Fitzgibbon was up there,
+and would see her--and she was supposed to be locked in her room.  But
+she would send Wong on deck with a message to Mister Lynch; she would
+have Lynch sing out for the captain's presence on the poop.  When the
+captain responded to the hail, I was to accomplish my task.  I was to
+bring Newman to this room.  What happened then depended upon
+chance--and Lynch.  Newman and I must get forward, some way, and quiet
+the men; Lynch would take care of Swope.  She had a fine faith in the
+second mate, had the lady.
+
+I had never been in the lazaret, the task of breaking out stores having
+usually fallen to the stiffs.  But from foc'sle gossip I knew it was a
+big storeroom, comprising the whole 'tweendeck beneath the cabin space.
+The _Golden Bough_, like most clippers of her day, sometimes carried
+emigrant passengers, and had need of a spacious lazaret.
+
+The lady sketched the lay of the land for me.  The hatch to the lazaret
+was in the saloon floor, well aft, on the starboard side.  Wong was
+more familiar than any man with the lazaret's interior, and he had
+decided the deck should be cut through from this room, rather than at
+any other point.  This, said the lady, was because farther aft, on this
+side of the ship, a strong room occupied the lazaret space (aye, the
+same strong room which so tickled the fancy of some of my shipmates!).
+The Chinaman had planned with foresight; he had even disposed stores
+below to convenience and shield the man who played rescuer.  When I
+dropped through the hole, the lady told me, I would find myself in a
+narrow alleyway, walled with tiers of beef casks and other stores; if I
+followed this alleyway I would come to the lazaret hatch, near where
+Newman was secured.
+
+She thought I should wait until I heard the captain leave the lazaret.
+But to this I demurred.  The success of the scheme might well depend
+upon the leeway of a moment's time.  The ship's noises, always present
+in a ship's hold, would cover any slight noise I might make.  Truth to
+tell, that sound of Newman in pain had thrown me into a fever of
+impatience to get to his side; and I suspect it rendered the lady less
+cautious, too.
+
+"God bless you, Boy--and, oh, be careful," she whispered.
+
+I drew back the blanket, and lowered my body into the opening.  I hung
+by my hands an instant, and felt her draw the blanket over my head as
+she covered the hole again.  Then I let go, and dropped.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+I crouched behind a row of flour barrels, which stood on end handy to
+the hatch, and peered through the chinks.  The captain had hung his
+lantern on a beam overhead, and its rays limned like a stage-setting an
+open space some six feet square.  Aye, a stage-setting, and the scene a
+torture chamber.  I bit my lips to restrain a cry of horror and rage
+when I looked through the chinks between the barrels, and it was with
+difficulty I kept myself from rushing forth and falling upon the fiend
+who had contrived and was enjoying the scene.
+
+Captain Swope was seated upon an upturned keg.  He had placed the
+lantern so its light fell full upon Newman (it illumined himself, for
+my eyes, as well) and he was talking to the prisoner, mocking him.
+
+And Newman!  It was the sight of him that made me choke, that made me
+finger my knife hilt.  Newman--my friend!
+
+He was at the far end of that open space, trussed up to the starboard
+limbers.  Trussed up--and in what way!  You will remember, when they
+placed him under arrest, the captain ordered his hands ironed behind
+his back.  The reason was now apparent.  His hands were still behind
+his back; aye, when they trussed him up, they drew up his hands until
+they were on a level with his head, and secured him in that position.
+His feet were also ironed, and the chain lashed to a limber.  So he
+stood, or rather hung--for he could not stand properly with his arms
+wrenched back in that position--and the whole weight of his body
+dragged upon his wrists and shoulder blades.  So he had stood during
+the hours that had passed since afternoon.  Torture, agony--that is
+what it meant to be trussed up in that position.
+
+I thought I recognized Fitzgibbon's handiwork in this torture; though I
+dare say it was originally Swope's invention.  But we had seen
+Fitzgibbon use this same method of inflicting pain and terror, we men
+forward.  One day, for an imagined insolence, he had trussed up Nigger
+to the mainmast in this very fashion, and left him there for a short
+half-hour.  After five minutes Nigger was wild with pain.  When he was
+cut down, his arms seemed paralyzed, and it was a full day ere the ache
+passed from them.
+
+And Newman had been enduring this pain for hours.  But now, I thought,
+he must be mercifully unconscious, for his head hung upon his breast,
+and he made no sign that he heard the captain's gibes.
+
+It was sport to Swope's liking, and he was enjoying himself right
+royally.  Aye, I could tell.  The words that slid between his full lips
+were laden with the sensuous delight their utterance gave the speaker.
+I lay in my retreat waiting for the hail that would draw the beast on
+deck, and while I waited I listened to him, and observed his manner.
+Oh, Swope was having a fine time, a happy time.  If the lady had not
+taken the revolver from me, I fear I should have shot the man despite
+my promise.  As it was my sheath knife lay bared in my hand, and I had
+to fight myself to keep from leaping the barrier and confronting him.
+Aye, to face him, and make him eat the steel out of my hand!
+
+Yes, Swope was in a happy mood.  A rollicking, loquacious mood.  He
+talked.  Unconsciously he made me witness to his confession of black
+treacheries, and deeds more loathsome than I could have imagined myself.
+
+When I reached my position behind the barrels, and was able to
+distinguish his words--he was boasting of and baring his secrets in a
+voice not meant to carry beyond Newman's ears--he was taunting Newman.
+
+"Well, why don't you call upon God to help you?" says he.  "He has
+helped you a lot in the past, hasn't he, Roy?  And He has helped her a
+lot, hasn't he?  Helped her to stand me.  Oh, that's a joke!  The just
+and merciful One--d'you remember how old Baintree used to rant?  You
+approved, didn't you.  You agreed with old Baintree.  So did I, Roy, to
+his face.
+
+"But you--why you were a damned Puritan, Roy.  You wouldn't do this,
+you wouldn't do that, you would be clean of vice--your very words,
+Roy!--and you would be honest and just with men.  That's the sort of
+thing that paid, says you.
+
+"And didn't it pay you, though!  Ho, ho; it's too rich, Roy!  You would
+make yourself as good a man as old Baintree; you would make yourself
+worthy of his daughter.  Remember telling me that?  And didn't you,
+though--with my help!  My help, Roy--not God's!  It was Black Angus and
+the Devil did it!
+
+"Well, well, I thought I would surprise you with my little tale of how
+I used the Twigg girl to spoil your chance with Mary.  But Beasley
+surprised you instead.  Didn't he, now?  A neat trick, eh, Roy?  You
+never guessed?
+
+"You never guessed, either, all that I had planned for you that time.
+If you hadn't been in such a hurry to leave town!  But then--I was just
+as well pleased.  With Beulah out of the way as well as you--it was
+plain sailing with Mary, Roy.
+
+"No, I never wanted Mary.  Not for herself.  She's not my kind, Roy; a
+damned, sniveling saint isn't my idea of a woman.  But I wanted her
+money.  Old Baintree's money.  And I got it.
+
+"I got Baintree, too.  It was necessary; I had to kill the old fool.
+He knew too much about me, and if he told Mary--well, I was playing the
+saint with her, just then.  He would never have consented to her
+marrying me; and also--the money, you know.  So I eliminated him, Roy.
+And God let you suffer for what I did!  Ho, ho, that's rich, isn't it?
+Come to think of it, it's sound theology--vicarious atonement, eh?  You
+got stripes, and I got Mary--and her money, which I have spent most
+pleasurably.
+
+"But you were always a fool, Roy--a stupid, trusting fool.  You trusted
+me, didn't you?  I was your bosom friend, your boyhood chum, whose wild
+ways grieved you.  Fool, fool, if you had possessed the wit of a
+jackass you would have known I hated you!  Hate, hate, hate!  I have
+hated you all my life, Roy!  I hated you when we were boys and you made
+me take second place.  I have hated you ever since; I hate you now--so
+much it is almost love, Roy!  Eh, but I never love.  I hate.  And when
+I hate--I hurt!"
+
+To all this tirade Newman returned no answer.  He did not seem to hear.
+He hung silent in his bonds, his head on his breast and his face
+hidden.  He might have been unconscious.  I thought he was, for he did
+not even look up when the captain was excitedly chanting his hate.
+Swope was plainly piqued at this indifference; he got up from his keg
+and stepped close to Newman.
+
+"But you are not thinking of yourself, are you, Roy?" he says.  "You
+are thinking of her, I know.  How sweet!  Sentiment was always your
+strong point.  Well, think hard about her, Roy, think your fill; for
+she is almost as near her end as you are near yours.  But not quite so
+near.  I intend to break that haughty spirit before I--er--eliminate
+her.  Oh, yes, it will break.  Trust me to know the sure way.  Roy,
+don't you want to know what I am going to do to Mary?"
+
+He paused a moment, and, chuckling and smacking his lips, stood looking
+at Newman's bowed figure.  Then he said slowly and deliberately,
+actually lingering over the words.  "I am going to make a strumpet of
+the wench for Fitzgibbon's pleasure!"
+
+Newman stirred.  "Ah, that wakes you up!" cried Swope.  It did, indeed.
+Newman was not unconscious.  I could have wished he was, so he might
+not have heard those words.  He lifted his face to the light, and I
+could see the sweat of agony upon it.  He did not speak.  He just
+looked at the man in front of him.  It was a look of unutterable
+loathing; his expression was as though he were regarding something
+indescribably obscene and revolting.  And then he pursed his lips and
+spat in Captain Swope's face.
+
+The skipper stepped back, and swabbed his cheek with his sleeve.  I
+thought he would strike Newman, kick him, practice some devilish
+cruelty upon him in payment.  Aye, I was crouched for the spring, with
+my sheath knife ready; if he had laid finger upon Newman I should have
+had his life in an instant.  I was all the barbarian that moment, my
+new-found scruples forgotten.  I was in a killing mood.  What man would
+not have been.
+
+But Captain Swope did not attempt to repay the insult with any physical
+cruelty.  He knew he was already racking his enemy's body to the limit
+of endurance, and his aim, I discovered, was to supplement this bodily
+suffering with mental torture.  Indeed, Swope seemed pleased at
+Newman's act.  He laughed as he wiped his face.
+
+"That stings--eh, Roy?  It's true--be certain of that, you soft-hearted
+fool.  I tell the truth sometimes, Roy--when it serves my purpose.  And
+I want you to imagine the details of what is going to happen to her.
+Think of it, Roy--the Lady of the _Golden Bough_, the saintly Mrs.
+Swope, the sweet Mary Baintree that was--lying in Fitzgibbon's arms!
+Pretty thought!"
+
+Chuckling, Swope resumed his seat.  He leaned forward, and watched
+Newman with hawklike intensity.  But Newman gave him little cause to
+chortle; his head dropped again upon his breast, and he gave no sound,
+no movement.
+
+"Why don't you call on God?" asked Swope.  "Why don't you call on me?"
+
+Newman lifted his head.  "You degenerate beast!" he said.  He said it
+evenly, without passion, and immediately withdrew his features from the
+other's scrutiny.
+
+But the captain was satisfied.  He slapped his thigh with delight.
+
+"It stings, eh, Roy?  It burns!  It runs through your veins like fire!
+Doesn't it?  It's a hot thought.  And here's another one to keep it
+company--  You can do nothing to prevent it!  To hairy old Fitz she'll
+go--and you can't prevent it!  Think of that, Roy!"
+
+Newman gave no sign he heard, but the black-hearted villain on the keg
+knew that the big fellow's ears were open and that his words were like
+stabs in a raw wound.  He talked on, and described villainies to come
+and villainies accomplished; the tale of his misdeeds seemed to possess
+him.  He gloried in them, gloated over them.  And as I listened, I
+realized, ignorant young whelp though I was, that this man was
+different from any man I had ever met or imagined.  He wasn't human; he
+was a freak, a human-looking thing with a tiger's nature.
+
+Always he reminded me of a cat, from the very first moment I clapped
+eyes upon him; never did he remind me more of a cat--or tiger--than
+when he sat upon the keg and teased Newman.  He seemed to purr his
+content with the situation.
+
+"I know what you are thinking, Roy," says he.  "You are thinking that
+my brave and upright second mate will prevent it happening to our dear
+little Mary?  Am I right, eh?  Vain thought.  Our friend, Lynch, will
+not be here to interfere.  I have seen to that.  He grows dangerous,
+does Jim Lynch, so--elimination.  Ah, I could write a treatise upon the
+Art of Elimination--couldn't I?  Angus Swope, the great eliminator!  It
+is my specialty, Roy.
+
+"Neatness, thoroughness, dispatch, everything shipshape, no loose ends
+flying--that's my style, Roy.  Now there was neatness and dispatch
+about my running you out of Freeport when I found your presence there
+inconvenient.  Don't you think there was?  Eh, you great fool?  You
+pulled my chestnuts out of the fire very nicely indeed.  But I was not
+as thorough as I should have been in that affair.  A loose end, or two,
+eh, Roy?  Beasley--and yourself.  Ah--but I improved with practice.  I
+left no loose end that night in Bellingham, did I?  Unless the fact
+that your neck didn't stretch, as I intended, could be called a loose
+end.  But then--you'll be tucked out of sight again very soon, and this
+time for good and all.  I never did believe in imprisonment for life,
+Roy; it is such a cruel punishment.  I'm a tender-hearted man, Roy--ho,
+ho, that's rich, eh?  I told that judge, after he sentenced you, that
+he would have been acting more kindly had he disregarded the jury's
+recommendation and hanged you out of hand.  And do you know what he
+told me, Roy?  He said I was right, that you deserved hanging.  Ho, ho,
+deserved hanging!  And he was a godly man, Roy.
+
+"Oh, what a great fool you were!  How easily I made you play my game!
+That night you had me to dinner on board your ship, in Bellingham--you
+never guessed why I fished for that invitation?  Why I persuaded you to
+send your mates ashore that night?  Just another of Angus' scrapes,
+thought you; he wants to confide in me, and ask my advice.  Angus wants
+my help, thought you.  So I did, Roy, so I did.
+
+"I needed your help badly.  But not the kind or help you would have
+offered; no, I needed your help in a different way.  I needed a
+catspaw, Roy.
+
+"I was skating on pretty thin ice just about then, Roy, I needed old
+Baintree's money.  I needed Mary to get the money.  But Mary was only
+willing to take me because her father wished her to; and I was heartily
+sick of playing the saint to stand well with him.  Oh, well, I'll tell
+you--why not?  The old hypocrite had a Puritan's sharp eyes, and he had
+caught me in a slip-up or two, and I knew he was about to tell Mary to
+break the betrothal.  And there was another thing, a little investment
+I handled for him.  He was bound to discover about it shortly, when the
+payments were due, and--well, you know, Roy, what an absurd attitude he
+had towards a little slip like that.  I was in a rather desperate fix,
+you see; yes, I really needed your help, Roy.
+
+"Besides there was you, yourself, to be taken care of.  You were one of
+my worries, not a big worry, but still a worry.  What if you forgot
+your pride?  What if Mary forgot her pride?  Of course, you were in
+Bellingham, and outward bound; and she was home in Freeport--but who
+can tell what a woman will do where her heart is concerned?  Besides, I
+hated you, damn you!  I was not going to overlook the luck that brought
+the three of us into the same port at the same time.  You had been my
+catspaw once; why not again?
+
+"So I had you invite me off to dinner.  That cozy little dinner, in
+your own cabin, just you and I, and Stord to wait on us.  I bet you
+never guessed until your trial that your steward was my man, if you
+guessed it then.  Aye, body and soul my man.  When I crooked my finger,
+Stord bent his body.
+
+"Do you remember that dinner, Roy?  I bet you do!  I crucified you,
+damn you!  You would be brave, you would be gallant, eh?  You would
+congratulate me upon the coming marriage, toast the best man, who had
+won the race.  Oh, I enjoyed your hospitality that night!  How you
+wrenched out the words!  You didn't want to talk about Mary, did you?
+But I made you talk, I made you squirm, eh?  And then, when I was sick
+of your platitudes--just a nod to Stord, and three little drops of
+chloral in your glass!
+
+"Do you want to know what happened next?  I'll lay that you've wondered
+many a time just what happened after you had so strangely dropped
+asleep, with your head in your plate.  Well, I'll tell you what
+happened.  I sent Stord on the run to Baintree's hotel.  He bore a
+message from you.  He told the dear captain that you were ill, on your
+ship, and that you wished very much to see him.  You can guess how the
+old fool would act in a case like that.  A chance to do a good deed,
+store up treasures in heaven, all that, eh?  You might have been a bad
+man in Freeport, but, you were sick and needed him.
+
+"He came in a hurry, all a-flutter like an old hen.  Just as I knew he
+would come.  And as he leaned over you, in your own cabin,
+I--er--separated him from his temporal worries with an iron belaying
+pin from your own rail.  Then I gave you the clout for luck (it has
+left a fine scar, I note) and placed the pin on the table.  And thus
+your chief mate discovered you when he came on board, you and your
+victim, and the weapon you used, just as I planned.  And your steward's
+testimony, and my reluctant admissions, finished you.  You see,
+Roy--neatness and thoroughness!
+
+"I took Stord to sea with me, as my steward.  But, unfortunately, he
+went over the side one dark night, off the Horn.  A loose end tucked
+in, eh, Roy?
+
+"And I'll tuck in other loose ends between now and dawn--you, for
+instance, and our brave Mister Lynch.  I have it already written down
+for Fitz to copy into the logbook.  'During the fighting, James Lynch,
+second mate, was stabbed by one of the mutineers; but owing to the
+darkness and confusion his assailant was not recognized.'  That's how
+the log will read when we bowse into port.  And--'During the fighting,
+the sailor, Newman, attempted to escape from custody, and was shot by
+the captain.'  You see, Roy, everything shipshape!  A line for each in
+the log--and two loose ends tucked in--eliminated!
+
+"You will have some time in which to think it over, before it happens,
+Roy.  You should thank me for that--for giving you something to think
+about.  It will take your mind off your pain, eh?  Yes, you need
+something to think about, for you'll hang there for four or five hours
+yet.  No danger of your sleeping, eh, Roy?  Well, keep your ears open
+and you'll be forewarned.  There'll be some shooting on deck.  I've
+gone to a great deal of trouble to bring it about; your shipmates are a
+gutless crew, Roy, and I had begun to think I could not get a fight out
+of them.  But the swabs are coming aft at the end of the mid-watch.
+Eight bells in the mid-watch--count the bells, Roy.  Eight
+bells--elimination!
+
+"Then there will be just one loose end left--and you know what I have
+planned for her!  Think about it, Roy--think about our darling little
+Mary!  At the mercy of the wolves, Roy!  At the mercy of our dear,
+gentle Fitzgibbon!  At the mercy--yes, I do believe at the mercy, also,
+of my new second mate.
+
+"Oh, yes, he is already nominated for the office.  Of course, he must
+first remove the incumbent--but that, as I explained, is arranged for.
+He is a greasy cockney, gutter-snipe--but useful.  I wouldn't think of
+having him at table with me, Roy--but I think I'll let him amuse
+himself with Mary--after Fitz!  Ah, that stings, eh, Roy!"
+
+It did, indeed.  Newman lifted the face of a madman to his torturer.
+Aye, the creature's vile words, and viler threat, had stung him beyond
+his power of self-control.  All the pent-up fury in his soul burst
+forth in one explosive oath.
+
+"God blast you forever, Angus!" he cried.
+
+Just that, and no more.  Newman had his grip again.  He was no man to
+indulge in impotent ravings.
+
+But the outburst was sufficient to delight Captain Swope.  He threw
+back his head and laughed that chuckling, demon's laugh of his.
+Delighted--why, he could hardly control himself to keep his seat on the
+keg, and as he laughed his feet beat a jig upon the deck.
+
+"I told you to call upon God!" was his gleeful answer to Newman.  "And
+you have!  Now, we'll see who wins--you and God, or Angus and the
+Devil!  Eh, Roy--who wins?
+
+"We'll see, Roy--we'll see if God takes your advice.  We'll see if He
+helps you, or Lynch.  Or Mary.  Ah, the saintly Mary, the pure, the
+unapproachable!  We'll see if He protects her from Fitz's dirty arms,
+or the greasy kisses of the Cockney!  Eh, Roy?  We'll see if He keeps
+her from--eliminating herself!
+
+"That's the way of it, Roy.  Clever--yes?  Neatness and thoroughness,
+and everything shipshape and Bristol fashion--that's my style, Roy.  I
+know Mary (who should know her better than her legal spouse, eh, Roy?)
+and I have arranged matters so she will tuck in her own end.  Listen,
+Roy, I have another item for the logbook which Fitzgibbon will copy.
+It needs but a date-line to be complete.  It will read like this:
+'To-day, while suffering from an attack of temporary insanity, the
+captain's wife destroyed herself.  The captain is broken-hearted.'
+With details added, Roy.  And the yarn cabled home when we make port.
+Suicide at sea--and I am broken-hearted!  Artistic, eh?  And she'll do
+it--you know she'll do it!"
+
+He sat there watching Newman, waiting.  I suppose he expected and
+desired a fresh outburst from the prisoner.  But in this he was
+disappointed; Newman gave no sign.
+
+"Ah, well, I fear I've overstayed my welcome this visit," he said,
+finally.  He got to his feet, and stood before Newman with legs
+spraddled and arms akimbo; drinking in lustfully the picture of the
+other man's utter misery.  "Interesting chat we've had--old times,
+future, and all that--eh, Roy?  But a sailor's work, you know--like a
+woman's--never done.  I have duties to attend to, Roy.  But I will
+return--ah, yes, you know I will return.  You'll wait here for me, eh,
+Roy?  Anxiously awaiting my return, counting the bells against my
+coming.  Well--remember--eight bells in the middle watch."
+
+He turned and stepped towards the ladder.  With his foot raised to the
+bottom step, he stopped, and stared aloft, mouth agape.  I stared too,
+and listened.
+
+We heard a shot, a single pistol shot.
+
+The captain wheeled upon Newman.  His hand flew to his pistol pocket.
+But he did not draw.  He would have died then and there, if he had, for
+I was tensed for the leap.
+
+But he was uncertain.  This was not the hour--and the other shots, the
+volley, we both expected did not come.  Instead, came the second mate's
+voice bellowing orders, "Connolly--the wheel!  Hard alee!  Weather main
+brace!"  Then, clearer, as he shouted through the cabin skylights,
+"Captain--on deck, quick!"
+
+It was the hail for which I had waited so long and anxiously.  But the
+news that came with it was strange and startling.
+
+"The man at the wheel," shouted Lynch, "has jumped overboard with the
+mate!"  Then his cry went forward, "Man overboard!"
+
+Swope leaped for the ladder.  I saw consternation in his face as he
+scurried aloft.
+
+So I knew that this was something he hadn't arranged.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+I was at Newman's side before Captain Swope's feet vanished from the
+ladder.  If he had paused to close the lazaret hatch behind him, he
+must surely have seen me.  But he did not pause; I heard his steps
+racing up the companion stairs to the poop, and his voice shouting his
+command: "Watch the main deck, Mister!  Light a flare!"
+
+I threw my arms about Newman, and babbled in his ear.  "Oh, the
+beast!--it's I--Jack--the devil, I heard what he said!--come to free
+you!"  Truth to tell, the things I had overheard unnerved me somewhat,
+and I was incoherent, almost, from rage and horror.
+
+But Newman brought me to myself in short order.  "I know--but not so
+loud--they'll hear you!"  Aye, his first words, and he smiled into my
+face.  This man on the rack smiled, and thought clearly, whilst I
+babbled.  "Be quick," he bade me.  "Cut the lashings."
+
+I obeyed in jig time.  The chains of both the hand and foot irons were
+secured to the limbers by rope lashings.  With two strokes of my knife
+I severed them.  Before I could catch him, Newman fell forward upon his
+face.  His misused limbs could not support him.
+
+I knelt by his side, sobbing and spluttering, and fishing in my pocket
+for the key the lady had given me.  It was the sight of his raw,
+bleeding wrists and ankles that maddened me; aye, the sight of them
+would have maddened a saint.  You will recall that the Old Man had
+commanded that Newman's wrists be tightly cuffed; and he had seen to it
+that the leg cuffs were equally tight.  Tight ironing was a favorite
+sport of Swope's; he was notorious for it among sailormen.   I saw the
+results upon Newman.
+
+The flesh above the irons was puffed and inflamed; the constriction and
+chafing had broken the skin, and the cuffs upon both arms and legs were
+buried in the raw wounds.  Exquisite agony--aye, trust Swope to produce
+that!  I had to push back the swollen, bruised mass before I could
+insert the little flat key, and effect the release.
+
+When I had them off, I turned Newman over on his back, and, with my arm
+about him, prepared to lift him erect.  Before I could do so,
+assistance arrived.  Light feet pattered down the lazaret ladder; there
+was a swish of skirts, a gasp, and the lady was on her knees by
+Newman's side.  "Roy--Roy--I was in time--" she cried.  Her arms went
+around his neck.
+
+I released him to her for the instant, and straightened up and
+listened.  There was noise on deck, and confusion.  The ship was in
+stays; she hung there, aback.  I could hear Lynch, somewhere forward,
+bawling orders; and overhead, Swope sang out to the wheel, and then
+hailed the roundhouse.
+
+"Roundhouse, there--on deck and lend a hand!  Man the
+lifeboat--lifeboat falls, there!  For God's sake, Mister--what's the
+matter there on deck?"
+
+Oh, he was worried, was Swope.  It showed in his voice; for once his
+tone was not full and musical, it was shrill and screechy.  He was
+sorely shaken, madly anxious to save his faithful jackal; the
+Eliminator had not planned Fitzgibbon's removal.
+
+Thoughts, questions, rushed through my mind.  I listened for other
+sounds, for shots and shouts and sounds of strife.  For there was
+confusion up there on the dark decks, and the captain had forgotten his
+caution and withdrawn his ambush.  I knew that Boston and Blackie would
+not overlook this chance; promise or no promise they would profit by
+this occasion.
+
+It was this thought that spurred me to action.  We must get out of this
+hole we were in; the lazaret was a trap.  The die was cast; the mutiny
+was on--or would be in a moment.
+
+I said as much to my companions.  Newman attempted to get to his feet.
+"A hand, Jack--it must be stopped," he said.
+
+I gave him the hand.  More than that, I took him upon my back and
+tottered up the ladder with him, the lady assisting as well as she was
+able.  She knew what had happened on deck, and she told us in a word or
+two.
+
+She had not been able to find Wong (we afterwards discovered that Wong
+had gone forward to the galley, and surprised the crew at a conference,
+and had been detained prisoner by them), so she crawled up the
+companion ladder herself, and lurked in the cuddy, waiting for a chance
+to speak with Lynch.  The Nigger was at the wheel, she said.
+Fitzgibbon walked up to him and struck him--as he had struck him many,
+many times before.  But this time Nigger did not submit--he whipped out
+his knife and stabbed the mate.  More than that, he grasped the mate in
+his powerful arms, dragged him to the taffrail, and flung him
+overboard.  It happened so quickly that neither Connolly, the
+tradesman, nor Lynch, both of whom were on the poop, could interfere.
+But Lynch took a shot at Nigger, and perhaps struck him, for Nigger
+went over the rail and into the sea with his victim.
+
+It was Nigger, despised, half-lunatic Nigger, who was not in my
+reckoning, nor in Swope's, who put the match to the tinder and upset
+such carefully laid plans.  As I feared, the revolt of the crew blazed
+up immediately.  My shipmates were eager, too eager.  As it turned out,
+their precipitancy was to cost them their chance of victory, for they
+began to riot while the three tradesmen were still handy to the
+roundhouse door, though, indeed, they had no knowledge, as had I, of
+the captain's ambuscade.
+
+I staggered into the saloon, and set Newman down upon the divan which
+ran around the half-round, and which was but a step from the hatch.  He
+got to his feet at once, and, though the lady and I stretched out our
+arms to catch him, this time he did not fall.  He swayed drunkenly, and
+hobbled when he took a step, but such was his vitality and so strong
+the urge of his will, that life was already returning to his misused
+limbs.
+
+It was just then that pandemonium broke out on deck--a shot, a string
+of shots and a bedlam of howls and yells.  Overhead was bedlam, too.
+The skipper's tune changed instanter.  He had been singing out to
+Mister Lynch to "topsail haul," and to the tradesmen to man the boat
+falls--but now he was screaming to the latter in a voice shaken with
+excitement--or panic--to regain their posts, to get into the roundhouse
+and "turn loose on 'em--pepper 'em!  And, for God's sake, throw out the
+flares!"
+
+Oh, the Great Eliminator was shocked most unpleasantly In that moment,
+I think--to discover, when his trusty mate was overboard, that his
+mutinous crew had firearms!
+
+I looked to Newman for orders, for he was now in command of our forlorn
+hope.  But he had his arm about the lady's shoulders, and was speaking
+urgently into her ear.  My thought was of a place to hide.  I ran
+towards the cabin alleyway.  I had no intention of going out on that
+dangerous deck, my object was to see if the inner door to the
+sail-locker was unlocked.  In the sail-locker, I thought, we could
+hide, the three of us, until the fight died down.
+
+But my design was frustrated.  Before I reached the sail-locker, the
+door to the deck, at the end of the alleyway, burst open, and the
+tradesman, Morton, pitched headlong over the base-board.  He scrambled
+to his hands and knees and scuttled towards me.  There was a whistling
+thud near my head.  I leaped back into the cabin, out of range, so
+quickly I tripped and sat down hard upon the deck.  For a shot fired
+after the fleeting Morton had just missed my skull.
+
+Morton crawled into the saloon, and looked at me with a stupid wonder
+in his face.   He was wounded; he nursed his shoulder, and there was a
+spreading stain upon his white shirt.
+
+"They have guns--in the rigging," says he.  Then he grunted, and
+collapsed, unconscious.
+
+The heavy roar of shotguns, for which my ear was cocked, did not come.
+There were two pistols in action overhead, and pistol shots rattled
+forward, and I could tell from the sounds that a free fight was raging
+somewhere on the main deck.  But the heavier discharges did not come.
+For an instant I thought--aye, and hoped!--that the tradesmen had been
+cut off from the roundhouse.
+
+Suddenly the saloon grew bright with a reflected glare.  I was on my
+feet again, and I peered into the alleyway, looking out through the
+door Morton had opened.  The roundhouse cut off any view of the main
+deck, but I could see that the whole deck, aye, the whole ship, was
+alight with a growing glare, a dazzling greenish-white light.
+
+Then I knew what Captain Swope meant when he screamed for "flares."
+Distress flares, signal flares, such as a ship in trouble might use.
+He had stocked the roundhouse with them.
+
+Cunning, aye, deadly cunning.  This was something Boston and Blackie
+had not dreamed of.  A flare thrown on deck when the men came aft--and
+slaughter made easy for the defenders of the roundhouse!
+
+Something of this I spoke aloud to Newman.  There was no answer, and I
+became conscious he was not behind me.  I wheeled about.  Newman, with
+the lady's assistance, was hobbling up the ladder to the deck above.  I
+swore my amazement and dismay at what seemed to me madness, but I
+hurried after them, and emerged on the poop at their heels.
+
+The night was banished by the strong light flaring forward.  That was
+my impression when I leaped out on deck.  When I turned forward, I saw
+the whole ship, clear to the foc'sle, bathed in that light.  Not one,
+but a half dozen flares were burning at once; they had been thrown upon
+the deck both to port and starboard.  Everything on the decks was
+brightly revealed, every ringbolt, the pins in the rails, deadeyes,
+sails, gear, aye, every rope in the rigging was boldly etched against
+the glowing background.  With that one sweeping glance I took in the
+scene.  High up in the main rigging, almost to the futtock shrouds, the
+figure of a man was revealed: he was blazing away in the direction of
+the poop with a revolver.  On the deck, near the mainmast, the second
+mate was laying about him with a capstan bar, and a dozen men seemed
+boiling over each other in efforts to close with him.  Other figures
+lay motionless upon the deck.
+
+So much for what I saw forward; what concerned me that instant was what
+was right before my eyes.  Captain Swope was leaning against the mizzen
+fife rail, screened by the mast from those forward, returning the fire
+of the man in the rigging--but no, even as I clapped eyes upon him, he
+shot, and I saw he aimed, not at the man in the rigging, but at the
+group fighting on the deck.  At his second officer, no less!  Aye, and
+I understood in a flash why I had not beard the shotguns; the tradesmen
+had not Swope's murderous intent towards Mister Lynch.  and they held
+their fire because they could not rake the gang without hitting Lynch.
+
+The tradesman, Connolly, was crouched against the companion hatch; he
+was staring after Newman and the lady, mouth agape.  He saw them
+directly they appeared on deck, which Swope did not.  He raised his gun
+uncertainly, then lowered it, then raised it again, covering Newman's
+broad back--and by that time I was upon him, my clutch was upon his
+wrist, and my right fist impacted violently against his head.  It was a
+knockout blow, at the base of the brain, and he slumped down,
+unconscious.  I straightened up, with the gun in my hand.
+
+It was at this instant that Captain Swope became aware of our presence.
+It was Newman, himself, who attracted his attention--aye, and the
+attention of the whole ship, as well.
+
+For Newman had marched into the light.  He stood now almost at the
+forward poop rail, with his arms raised above his head; and he sent his
+voice forward in a stentorian hail, a cry that was like a thunderclap.
+
+"Stop fighting, lads!  Stop it, I say!  It is I--Newman!  Stop fighting
+and go for'ard!"
+
+If ever a human face showed amazement and discomfiture, Swope's did.
+He had been so busy at his game of potting his officer he did not see
+Newman until the latter walked into his range of vision and sent forth
+his hail.  He could have shot Newman then, and I could not have
+prevented, for he had his weapon leveled.  But this sudden apparition
+seemed to paralyze him; he just lowered his arm, and stared.
+
+It startled and paralyzed all hands.  The struggle on the main deck
+ceased abruptly.  It was the strangest thing I ever beheld, the way
+Newman's thunderous command seemed to turn to graven images the men on
+deck.  They were frozen into grotesque attitudes, arms drawn back to
+strike, boots lifted to kick.  Mister Lynch stood with his capstan bar
+poised, as though he were at bat in a baseball game.  Every face was
+lifted to the giant figure standing there on the poop.  I even saw in
+the brilliant light a white face framed in one of the portholes in the
+roundhouse.
+
+Newman repeated his command.  He did not beg or entreat; he commanded,
+and I don't think there was a sailor or stiff on the main deck who,
+after his first word, dreamed of disobeying him.  Such was the big
+man's character superiority, such was the dominance his personality had
+acquired over our minds.  I tell you, we of the foc'sle looked upon
+Newman as of different clay; it was not alone my hero-worship that
+magnified his stature, in all our eyes he was one of the great, a being
+apart from and above us.
+
+And not only foc'sle eyes regarded him in this light.  There were the
+tradesmen peering out of the roundhouse ports, with never a thought in
+their minds of disobeying his injunction.  I had it from their own lips
+afterwards; it was not just surprise at the big fellow's sudden
+appearance that stayed their hands, it was the power of his
+personality.  There was Mister Lynch, arrested by Newman's voice in
+mid-stroke, as it were.  There was Swope, standing palsied and
+impotent, with a growing terror in his face.
+
+"Go for'ard, lads!  Go below!  Come up here, Lynch!  Not another blow,
+men--for'ard with you!"
+
+The frozen figures on the deck came to life.  There was a murmur, a
+shuffling of feet, and Lynch lowered his great club.  But it was an
+obedient noise.
+
+From one quarter came the single note of dissent.  The man in the main
+rigging sang out.  It was Boston's voice.
+
+"Go aft, mates!" he shouted.  "We've got them--we've won--don't listen
+to him!"  Then he threw his voice at Newman.  "Damn you, Big 'Un,
+you've spoiled the game!"  A flash followed the oath, and a splinter
+flew from the deck at Newman's feet.
+
+There was a flash from my gun as well.  I fired without taking
+conscious aim; I swear, an invisible hand seemed to lift my arm, a
+finger not mine seemed to press the trigger--and that greedy, murderous
+rascal in the rigging screamed, and loosed his hold.  He struck the
+sheer pole in his descent, and bounced into the sea.
+
+The shots seemed to awaken Captain Swope from his surprise and terror.
+He had suddenly moved with catlike swiftness; when I lowered my eyes
+from the rigging, I saw he had left his refuge behind the mizzenmast
+and was standing in the open deck.  Aye, there he stood in that light,
+which had reached its maximum, revealed to all eyes--and stamped upon
+his face was an expression of insane fury so terrible and deadly he
+seemed not a human being at all, but a mad beast crouched to spring.
+His lips were drawn back from his teeth, and a froth appeared upon his
+black beard.  The crowd forward saw the demon unmasked in his face,
+even as I saw it, and from them arose a gasping "_a-ah_!" of horror.
+
+The sound caused the lady, who was standing at Newman's elbow, to turn
+around; or perhaps it was the feel of Swope's burning eyes that spun
+her about so quickly.  He was raising his arm, the arm that held the
+gun, not quickly but slowly and carefully.  With a stab of horror I saw
+him aim, not at the man, but at the woman.
+
+No outside power this time seemed to aid me.  I shot.  I should have
+hit the beast, he was not ten paces distant--but only a click answered
+when my hammer fell.  My gun was empty.  I threw up my arm, intending
+to hurl the weapon, and I think I cried out.  Swope shot--and the lady
+threw up her hands and fell.
+
+You must understand, this all happened in a brief instant of time.
+Aye, it was but a short moment since we stepped out on deck.  What
+happened after that shot must be measured by seconds.
+
+For the lady was still falling, and my hand was still reaching behind
+me to gather energy for a throw, when Newman bore down upon his enemy.
+I had not seen him turn around even, and there he was at arm's grips
+with the captain.  There was another flash from Swope's revolver, in
+Newman's very face.  It was a miss, for Newman's hands--helpless lumps
+of flesh but a few moments before--closed upon Swope's neck.  I saw
+Newman's face.  It was a terrible face, the face of an enraged and
+smiting god.  The great scar stood out like a dark line painted upon
+his forehead.
+
+He lifted Swope from his feet with that throat grip.  He whirled him
+like a flail, and smashed him down upon the deck, and let him go.  And
+there Yankee Swope lay, sprawled, and still, his head bent back at a
+fatal angle.  A broken neck, as a glance at the lolling head would
+inform; and, as we discovered later, a broken back as well.  It was
+death that Newman's bare hands dealt in that furious second.
+
+Newman did not waste so much as a glance at the work of his hands.  He
+had turned to the lady, with a cry in his throat, a low cry of pain and
+grief--which changed at once to a shout of gladness.  For the lady was
+stirring, getting to her feet, or trying to.
+
+Newman gathered her slight form into his great arms.  I heard him
+exclaim, "Where, Mary?  Did it--"  And she answered, dazedly, "I am all
+right--not hit."  He took a step towards me, towards the companion.
+The swelling murmur from the deck arrested him.
+
+He walked to the break of the poop, with the woman in his arms.  She
+seemed like a child held to his breast.  He spoke to the men below in a
+hushed, solemn voice.
+
+"It is ended," he said.  "Swope is dead."
+
+As he stood there, the flares commenced to go out.  One by one they
+guttered and extinguished, and the black night swept down like a
+falling curtain.
+
+Five bells chimed in the cabin.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+It was the end, even as Newman said.  The end of the mutiny, the end of
+hate and dissension in that ship, the end, for us, of Newman, himself,
+and the lady.  Peace came to the _Golden Bough_ that night, for the
+first time, I suppose, in her bitter, blood-stained history.  A peace
+that was bought with suffering and death, as we discovered when we
+reckoned the cost of the night's work.
+
+Swope was dead--for which there was a prayer of thanks in every man's
+heart.  Fitzgibbon was gone, and the Nigger.  Boston was dead at my
+hand; his partner, Blackie, lay stark in the scuppers, as did also the
+stiff named Green, each with a bashed in skull, the handiwork of Mister
+Lynch.
+
+Such was the death list for that night's work.  It was no heavier I
+think--though of much different complexion--than the list Captain Swope
+had planned.
+
+As for wounded--God's truth, the _Golden Bough_ was manned by a crew of
+cripples for weeks after.  Lynch had wrought terribly, there on the
+main deck--broken pates, broken fingers, a cracked wrist, a broken
+foot, and three men wounded, though not seriously, by Swope's and
+Connolly's shots.  Such were the foc'sle's lighter casualties.  Aft,
+the list was shorter.  Morton had a bullet wound in the shoulder; it
+would lay him up for the rest of the passage, but was not dangerous.
+Connolly had a lump behind his ear.  Lynch was bruised a bit, and his
+clothes were slashed to ribbons, otherwise he had escaped scathless.
+
+The lady was not really hurt at all.  Swope's bullet plowed through her
+mass of hair, creasing her so lightly the skin was unbroken, though the
+impact knocked her down.
+
+I was almost the only man on the ship who bore no marks of that fight,
+though I was a sight from the beating, and Lynch--or perhaps it was
+Newman--made me bo'sun of the deck in the labor of bringing order out
+of chaos.  I rallied the unhurt and lightly hurt, and we carried the
+worse injured into the cabin, where the lady and Newman attended them.
+I opened the barricaded galley, and freed the frightened Chinamen, Wong
+and the cook and the cabin boy, and Holy Joe, the parson.  As I learned
+afterwards, Holy Joe, when he learned of the intended mutiny,
+threatened, in vain attempt to stop it, to go aft and blow the plot.
+Blackie and Boston wanted to kill him for the threat, but the
+squareheads would not have it so, and he was shut up in the galley with
+the Chinamen.
+
+By Lynch's order, we launched the dinghy, and, with me at the tiller
+and two lordly tradesmen at the oars, set out in humane but hopeless
+quest for the mate and the Nigger.  I cruised about for nigh an hour,
+and came back empty-handed.  We had not really expected to find them,
+or trace of them.  Fitzgibbon had been stabbed, and it was known, also,
+that he did not know how to swim; and as for the Nigger, "I plugged him
+as he jumped," said Lynch.
+
+When we got back, Lynch had me muster the available hands, and we
+launched the longboat.  All the rest of the night, Wong and his two
+under-servants cargoed that craft with stores of every kind.
+
+One other man had lost his mess number in that ship, we discovered, as
+the night wore on.  The traitor.  We found not hide or hair of Cockney;
+he was gone from the ship, leaving no trace.  At least, no trace I
+could discover.  But when I looked for him, I became conscious of a new
+attitude towards me on the part of my shipmates.  I had been their
+mate, in a way their leader and champion.  Now, by virtue of Lynch's
+word--and Newman's--I was their boss.  I was no longer one of them.
+Aye, and sailorlike they showed it by their reserve.  They said
+truthfully enough they did not know what had become of Cockney--and
+they kept their guesses to themselves.  But my own guess was as good,
+and as true.  Boston and Blackie had attended to Cockney.  I could
+imagine how.  A knife across the windpipe and a boost over the side;
+without doubt some such fate was Cockney's.
+
+Mister Lynch made no effort to put the ship on her course.  We left the
+yards as they were, and drifted all the rest of the night.  I, and the
+unwounded tradesmen, kept the deck; in the cabin, the lady and Newman
+labored, and conferred with Lynch and Holy Joe.  Aye, Holy Joe, as well
+as myself, was lifted to higher estate by that night's happenings.  He
+lived aft, even as I, the rest of the voyage, and was doctor of bodies
+as well as souls.
+
+Near dawn, they called me into the cabin, and put dead man's shoes upon
+my feet, so to speak.
+
+"Shreve, it is my duty to take the ship into port," says Lynch.  "What
+will be the outcome of tonight's work, I do not know.  But I do not
+fear.  My testimony, and that of the sailmakers and carpenters, to say
+nothing of your story, and the stories of the other men forward, will
+be more than sufficient to convince any court of justice.  There will
+be no jailing because of to-night's trouble--you may tell the men that."
+
+"Yes, sir," I replied.  Aye, it was good news to take forward to the
+poor shaking wretches in the foc'sle.
+
+"You understand, I am captain for the remainder of the passage," Lynch
+went on.  "And I have decided to appoint you chief mate.  Connolly will
+be second mate."
+
+Aye, that was it.  Jack Shreve, chief mate of the _Golden Bough_!  "I
+have decided," says Lynch--but I knew the decision belonged to Newman
+and the lady, who were smiling at me across the table.
+
+"And you understand--they are leaving in the longboat," added Lynch.
+
+I looked at my friend, and the lady, and my new honor was bitter and
+worthless in my mouth.
+
+"Take me with you," I urged.
+
+"To share an outlaw's career?  No, lad--we must go alone," said Newman.
+I remember he added to Lynch, "If this boy proves the friend to you he
+was to me, you will be a lucky man, Captain."
+
+The sky was just graying with the coming day when the two left the
+ship.  But before they went over the side, there took place in the
+growing light on the deck before the cabin a scene as strange and
+solemn as any I have seen since.  Holy Joe married them, there on the
+deck--and in the scuppers, behind the lady's back, covered up with a
+spare sail, lay the ship's dead, Yankee Swope among them.  Aye, the
+parson tied the knot, for this life and next, as he said, and I was
+best man, and Captain Lynch gave away the bride.
+
+"Roy Waldon, do you take this woman--" that was the way the parson put
+it, standing there before them, with his one good hand holding the
+Book, peering up into Newman's face through his puffed, blackened eyes.
+A minister in dungaree!  "Mary Swope, do you take this man--" that was
+how he put it.  And though the lady's face was wan and haggard, yet
+there was a glory in it beyond power to describe.
+
+And then they cast off from the ship, those two who were now one.
+Newman stepped the mast, and drew aft the sheet, and the little craft
+caught the breeze and scudded away from us.  We lined the rail, lame
+men and well men, and cheered our farewell.  I wept.
+
+A long time we watched them.  The sun leaped up from the sea, and the
+longboat seemed to sail into its golden heart; and after the sun had
+risen above it, the boat was visible for a long time as a dwindling,
+ever dwindling speck.  I moved up onto the poop, the longer to see.  So
+did Lynch.  Side by side, we watched the speck dip over the rim of the
+sea.
+
+Lynch sighed, and walked away.  I heard him exclaim, and turned to
+observe him picking up something from the deck.  He held it out to me,
+in the palm of his hand.
+
+It was a little wisp of hair, the lady's hair, a relic of the battle.
+Lynch stared at it--then he looked out over the sea, into the path of
+the sun.  Aye, and there was that in his eyes which opened mine.  I
+began at last to understand Bucko Lynch--"Captain" Lynch as he was to
+remain to the end of his days.  I knew from that look in his eyes why
+no parson would now ever say to him, "Do you take this woman?"
+
+Slowly, Lynch put the little wisp of hair into his waistcoat pocket.
+He drew a deep breath, and shrugged his shoulders; then he hailed me
+with seamanly brusqueness.
+
+"Lively, now, Mister--we'll put the ship on her course!"
+
+"Yes, Captain," I answered.  And the "Mister" roared his first command
+along those decks.
+
+
+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
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