THE GRAIN SHIP

BY

MORGAN ROBERTSON

PUBLISHED BYMcCLURE'S MAGAZINEANDMETROPOLITAN MAGAZINE

The contents of this volume first appeared in the following magazines:

"The Grain Ship"--_Harper's Monthly_. "From the Darkness and the Depths"--_New Story Magazine_. "Noah's Ark"--_The All-Story Magazine_. "The Finishing Touch"--_The Popular Magazine_. "The Rock"--_The Sunday Magazine_. "The Argonauts"--_Hampton's Magazine_. "The Married Man"--_The Smart Set_. "The Triple Alliance"--_Sunday Magazine_. "Shovels and Bricks"--_Harper's Weekly_. "Extracts from Noah's Log"--_The Home Magazine_. 

CONTENTS

 PAGE

THE GRAIN SHIP 1

FROM THE DARKNESS AND THE DEPTHS 27

NOAH'S ARK 61

THE FINISHING TOUCH 84

THE ROCK 102

THE ARGONAUTS 131

THE MARRIED MAN 151

THE TRIPLE ALLIANCE 168

SHOVELS AND BRICKS 192

EXTRACTS FROM NOAH'S LOG 232

THE GRAIN SHIP

I could not help listening to the talk at the next table, because theorchestra was quiet and the conversation unrestrained; then, too, anautical phrasing caught my ear and aroused my attention. For I hadbeen a lifelong student of nautical matters. A side glance showed methe speaker, a white-haired, sunburned old fellow in immaculate eveningdress. With him at the table in the restaurant were other similarlyclad men, evidently of good station in life, and in their answers andcomments these men addressed the white-haired man as Commodore. A navycaptain, I thought, promoted on retirement. His talk bore it out. 

"Yes, sirree, " he said, as he thumped the table mildly. "A good, tightmerchant ship, with nothing wrong except what might be ascribed toneglect such as light canvas blown away and ropes cast off the pins, with no signs of fire, leak, or conflict to drive the crew out, withplenty of grub in the stores and plenty of water in the tanks. Yet, there she was, under topsails and topgallant-sails, rolling alongbefore a Biscay sea, and deserted, except that the deck was almostcovered with dead rats. "

"What killed them, Commodore, " asked one; "and what happened to thecrew?"

"Nobody knows. It might have been a poisonous gas from the cargo, butif so it didn't affect us after we boarded her. The log-book was gone, so we got no information from that. Moreover, every boat was in itschocks or under its own davits. It was as though some mysterious powerhad come down from above and wiped out the crew, besides killing therats in the hold. She was a grain ship from 'Frisco, and grain shipsare full of rats. 

"I was the prize-lieutenant that took her into Queenstown. She wascondemned in Admiralty proceedings and, later, restored to her owners. But to this day no man has told the story of that voyage. It is thirtyyears and more since then, but it will remain one of the unexplainedmysteries of the sea. "

The party left the table a little later, and left me, an ex-sailor, ina condition of mind not due to the story I had heard from theCommodore. There was something else roused into activity--somethingindefinite, intangible, elusive, like the sense of recognition thatcomes to you when you view a new scene that you know you have neverseen before. It was nothing pertaining to myself or my adventures; andI had never heard of a ship being found deserted with all boats inplace. It was something I must have heard at some time and place thatbore no relation to the sea and its mysteries. It tormented me; Iworried myself into insomnia that night, thinking about it, but at lastfell asleep, and awakened in the morning with a memory twenty-fiveyears old. 

It is a long stretch of time and space from that gilded restaurant ofthat night to the arid plans of Arizona, and back through the years ofwork and struggle and development to the condition of a sailor on shorebeating his way, horseback and afoot, across the country from the Gulfto the Pacific. But in my sleep I traversed it, and, lying on my backin the morning, puffing at my first pipe, I lived again my experiencewith the half-witted tramp whom I had entertained in my camp and whochanged his soul in my presence. 

I was a line-rider for a cattle company, and as it was before the daysof wire fences, my work was to ride out each day along my boundary andseparate the company's cattle from those of its neighbor, a rivalcompany. It was near the end of the day, when I was almost back tocamp, that I saw him coming along the road, with the peculiar swing tohis shoulders and arms that, once acquired, never leaves the deep-watersailor; so I had no hesitancy in greeting him after the manner ofseamen. 

"Well, mate, how are you heading?" I inquired, as I leaned over thesaddle. 

"Say, pardner, " he said, in a soft, whining voice, "kin you tell mewhere a feller might git a bite to eat around here?"

"Well, " I answered, "yes and no. I thought you were a sailorman. " Onlyhis seamanly roll had appealed to me. His face, though bearded, tanned, and of strong, hard lines, seemed weak and crafty. He was tall, andstrongly built--the kind of man who impresses you at first sight asaccustomed to sudden effort of mind and body; yet he cringed under mystare, even as I added, "Yes, I'll feed you. " I had noticed a blue foulanchor tattooed on his wrist. 

"Come along, old man, " I said, kindly. "You're traveling for yourhealth. I'll ask no fool questions and say nothing about you. My campis just around that hill. "

He walked beside my horse, and we soon reached the camp, a log house ofone room, with an adobe fireplace and chimney, a rough table, and acouple of boxes for seats. Also, there was a plank floor, a novelty anda luxury in that country at that time. Under this floor was a family ofhuge rats that I had been unable to exterminate, and I had found iteasier and cheaper to feed them than to have them gnawing into mystores in my absence. So they had become quite tame, and in theevenings, keeping at a safe distance, however, they would visit me. Ihad no fear of them, and rather enjoyed their company. 

I fed and hobbled my horse, then cooked our supper, of which my guestate voraciously. After supper I filled my pipe and offered him another, but he refused it; he did not smoke. Then I talked with him and foundhim weak-minded. He knew nothing of consequence, nothing of the sea orof sailors, and he had forgotten when that anchor had been tattooed onhis wrist. He thought it had always been there. He was a laborer, apick-and-shovel man, and this was the only work he aspired to. Disappointed in him, for I had yearned for a little seamanly sympathyand companionship, I finished my smoke in the fire-light and turned toget the bed ready, when one of the rats sprang from the bed, across thefloor and between the tramp and the fire; then it darted to a hole inthe edge of the floor and disappeared. But its coming and going wroughta curious effect upon that wayfarer. He choked, spluttered, stood upand reeled, then fell headlong to the floor. 

"Hello!" I said, anxiously; "anything wrong?"

He got on his feet, looked wildly about the place, and asked, in ahoarse, broken voice that held nothing of its former plaintiveness:

"What's this? Was I picked up? What ship is this?"

"No ship at all. It's a cow camp. "

"Log cabin, isn't it?"--he was staring at the walls. "I never saw onebefore. I must have been out of my head for a while. Picked up, ofcourse. Was the mate picked up? He was in bad shape. "

"Look here, old man, " I said, gently, "are you out of your head now, orwere you out of your head before?"

"I don't know. I must have been out of my head. I can't remember muchafter tumbling overboard, until just now. What day is this?"

"Tuesday, " I answered. 

"Tuesday? It was Sunday when it happened. Did you have a hand inpicking me up? Who was it?"

"Not me, " I said. "I found you on the road out here in a dazed state ofmind, and you knew nothing whatever of ships or of sailors, though Itook you for a shellback by your walk. "

"That's right. You can always spot one. You're a sailor, I can see, andan American, too. But what are you doing here? This must be the coastof Portugal or Spain. "

"No, this is a cow camp on the Crossbar Range in the middle ofArizona. "

"Arizona? Six thousand miles from there! How long have I been out of myhead?"

"Don't know. I've only known you since sundown. You've just gonethrough a remarkable change of front. "

"What day of the month is it?"

"The third day of December. "

"Hell! Six months ago. It happened in June, Of course, six months istime enough for me to get here, but why can't I remember coming?Someone must have brought me. "

"Not necessarily. You were walking along, caring for yourself, buthungry. I brought you here for a feed and a night's sleep. "

"That was kind of you--" He involuntarily raised his hand to his face. "I've grown a beard, I see. Let's see how I look with a beard. " Hestepped to a looking-glass on the wall, took one look, and sprang back. 

"Why, it isn't me!" he exclaimed, looking around with dilated eyes. "It's someone else. "

"Take another look, " I said. He did so, moved his head to the right andleft, and then turned to me. 

"It must be me, " he said, hoarsely, "for the image in the glass followsmy movements. But I've lost my face. I'm another man. I don't knowmyself. "

"Look at that anchor on your wrist, " I suggested. He did so. 

"Yes, " he said, "that part of me is left. It was pricked in on my firstvoyage. " He examined his arms and legs. "Changed, " he muttered. Herubbed his knees, and passed his hands over his body. 

"What year was it when, as you say, you jumped overboard?" I asked. 

"Eighteen seventy-five. "

"This is eighteen eighty-four. Matey, you have been nine years out ofyour head, " I said. 

"Nine years? Sure? Can you prove that to me? My God, man, think of it!Nine years gone out of my life. You don't know what that means to me. "

I showed him a faded and discolored newspaper. 

"That paper is about six months old, " I said, "but it's an eighteeneighty-four paper. "

"Right, " he said, sadly and somewhat wildly. "Got a pipe? I want tosmoke on this, and think it out. Nine years, and six thousand milestravel! Where have I been, I wonder, and what have I done, to changethe very face of me, while I lived with it? It's something like death, I take it. "

I gave him a pipe and tobacco, and he smoked vigorously, trembling withexcess of emotion, yet slowly pulling himself together. Finally hesteadied, but he could not smoke. He put the pipe down, saying that itsickened him. I knew nothing of psychology at the time, but think nowthat in his second personality he had given up smoking. 

I forbore questioning him, knowing that I could not help him in hisproblem--that he must work it out himself. He did not sleep that night, and kept me awake most of the time with his twitchings and turnings. Once he was up, examining his face in the glass by the light of amatch, but in the morning, after a doze of an hour or so, I found himoutside, looking at the sunrise and smoking. 

"I'm getting used to my new face, " he said, "and I'm getting used tosmoking again. Got to. Nothing but a smoke will help a fellow at times. What business is this you're in here?"

"Cow-punching--riding out after cattle. "

"Hard to learn?"

"Easy for a sailor. I'm only hanging on until pay-day, then I make for'Frisco to ship. "

"And someone will take your place, I suppose. I'll work for my grub ifyou'll break me in so that I can get the job. I'm through with going tosea. "

"Certainly. All I need is to tell the boss. I've an extra saddle. "

So I tutored him in the tricks of cow-punching, and found him an aptpupil. But he was heavy and depressed, seeming to be burdened with someterrible experience, or memory, that he was trying to shake off. It wasnot until the evening before my departure, when I had secured him thejob and we sat smoking before the mesquite-root fire, that he took meinto his confidence. The friendly rat had again appeared, and he sprangup, backed away, and sat down again, trembling violently. 

"It was that rat that brought you to yourself that evening, " Iventured. "Rats must have had something to do with your past life. "

"Right, they did, " he answered, puffing fiercely. "I didn't know youhad rats here, though. "

"A whole herd of them under the floor. But they're harmless. I foundthem good company. "

"I found them bad company. I was shipmates with thousands of rats onthat last passage. Want the yarn? It'll raise your hair. "

I was willing, and he reeled it off. His strong self-control never lefthim from the beginning to the end, though the effect upon me was notonly to raise my hair, but at times to stop the beating of my heart. Ileft him next morning, and have never seen or heard of him since; butthere is strong reason to believe that he never went to sea again, ortold that yarn in shipping circles. And it is because I have not seenthat old Commodore since the evening in the restaurant, and because Icannot recall the name of the ship, or secure full data of marinehappenings of the year 1875, that I am giving that story to the worldin this form, hoping it will reach the right quarters and explain tothose interested the mystery of the grain ship, found in good shape, but abandoned by all but the dead rats. 

 * * * * *

"I shipped in her at 'Frisco, " began Draper. "She was a big, skysail-yarder loading grain at Oakland, and as the skipper had offeredme second mate's berth, I went over and sized her up. She seemed allright, as far as man may judge of a ship in port--nearly new, and wellfound in gear and canvas, which the riggers had rove off and bent. Hercargo of grain was nearly in, and there would be nothing much to do inthe way of hard work. Still, I couldn't make up my mind. Somethingseemed to prevent me liking the prospect, so I went on up to Oakland tovisit some friends, and on the way back, long after dark, stopped againat the dock for another look at her. And this time I saw what wasneeded to ease my mind and decide me. You know as well as I do thatrats quit a ship bound for the bottom, and their judgment is alwaysright, though no one knows why. And I reasoned that if rats swarm intoan outbound ship she would have a safe passage. Well, that's what theywere doing. Wharf rats, a foot long--hundreds of them--going up themooring-chains, the cable to the dock, the lines, the fenders, and thegangway, some over the rail, others in through the mooring-chocks. Thewatchman was quiet, perhaps asleep; so, perhaps, every rat that wentaboard got into the hold. I signed on next morning. 

"Nothing occurred aboard that ship except the usual trouble of breakingin a new crew, until we'd got down to about forty south, when theskipper brought up a rat-trap with a big, healthy rat in it. He was amild-mannered little man, and a rat and dog fight marked the limits ofhis sporting nature. That was what he was after. He had a littleblack-and-tan terrier, about the size of the rat, and there was alively time around the deck for a while, until the rat got away. He putup a stiff fight with the dog, but finally saw his chance, and slippedinto the forward companion of the cabin; then, I suppose, he found thehole he'd come up. But the dog had nipped him once, it seemed, for therat left a tiny trail of blood after him. As for the dog, he nearly hada fit in his anger and disappointment, and when the skipper picked himup he nipped him, too. It was only a little wound on the skipper'sthumb, but the dog's teeth were sharp, and the blood had come. Theskipper gave him a licking, and the work went on. 

"The dog was a spirited little fellow, and used to sit on the skipper'sshoulder when we were going about, or wearing ship, or handling canvas, and he would bark and yelp and swear at us, bossing each job as thoughhe knew all about it. It kept the men good-humored, and we all likedthe little beast. But from the time of the licking he moped, andfinally grew sick, slinking around the deck in a dispirited fashion, refusing any attention, and unwilling to remain a minute in one place. We felt rather sore at the skipper, who seemed ashamed now and anxiousto make friends with the dog, for the little bite in his thumb hadhealed up. This went on for a few days, and then we woke up to whatreally ailed that dog. He was racing around decks one morning with histongue hanging out, froth dropping from his mouth, and agonized yelpsand whines coming from him. 

"'My God!' cried the skipper, 'Now I know. He was bitten in 'Frisco. Heis mad, and he has bitten me. Keep away from him everybody. Don't lethim get near you. '

"I'll always count that in the skipper's favor. Bitten and doomedhimself, he thought of others. 

"We dodged the little brute until he had dropped in sheer exhaustionand gone into a spasm. Then we picked him up with a couple of shovelsand threw him overboard. But this didn't end it, for the skipper wasbitten. He studied up some books on medicine he had below, but found nocomfort. I heard him tell the mate that there was nothing in themedicine chest to meet such an emergency. 

"'In fact, ' he said, mournfully, 'even on shore, with the best ofmedical skill, there is no hope for a man bitten by a mad dog. Theperiod of incubation is from ten days to a year. I will navigate theship until I lose my head, Mr. Barnes; then, for fear of harm toyourselves, you must shoot me dead. I am doomed, anyway. '

"We tried to reassure him, but his mind was made up and nothing wouldchange it. Whether or not he had hydrophobia we could not tell at thetime, but we knew that strong and intense thinking about it would bringon symptoms. In the light of after happenings, however, there was nodoubt of it. He got sick after we'd rounded the Horn, fidgety, nervous, and excitable, and, like the dog, he couldn't stay long in one place;but he wouldn't admit that the disease had developed in him until thelittle scar on his thumb grew inflamed and painful and he experienceddifficulty in drinking. Then he gave up, but he certainly showedcourage and character. 

"'I am against suicide on principle, ' he said to Mr. Barnes and me, 'soI must not kill myself. But I am not against killing a wild beast thatmenaces the lives of human beings. I am to be such a wild beast. Killme in time before I injure you. '

"But we didn't. We had the same compunctions about killing a sick manthat he had about suicide. We strapped him down when he got violent, and after three days of frightful physical and mental agony he died. Weburied him with the usual ceremonies, and Mr. Barnes took command. 

"He and I had a consultation. We were well up toward the river Plate, and he was for putting into Montevideo and cabling the owners fororders. As he was a competent navigator I advised keeping on; and inthis, perhaps, is where I earned my punishment. He took my advice, andwe had reached up into the doldrums on the line, when a man turned outat eight bells of the middle watch--midnight, you know--and swore thata big rat had bitten him as he lay asleep. We laughed at him, eventhough he showed four bloody little holes in his wrist. But, threeweeks later, that man was raving around the deck, going into periodicconvulsions, frothing at the mouth, and showing every symptom that hadpreceded the death of the skipper. He died in the same horrible agony, and we realized that not only the skipper, but the rat bitten by thedog had been inoculated with the virus, and that the rat couldinoculate other rats. We buried the man, and from that time on slept inour boots, with mittens on, and our heads covered, even in the hotweather of the tropics. It was no use. Mad rats appeared on deck, frenzied with pain, frothing at the mouth, fearless of all livingthings, a few at first and after dark, then in larger numbers night andday. We killed them as we could, but they increased. They filled thecabin and forecastles, and we found them in coils of rope up aloft inthe tops, the crosstrees, and the doublings of the masts. They climbedeverywhere, up or down, on a sail or its leach, a single rope or abackstay. The mate and myself, with the steward, could shut the doorsof our rooms and keep them out until they chose to gnaw through, butthe poor devils forward had no such refuge. Their forecastles and thegalley and carpenter shop were wide open. Man after man was nipped, awake or asleep, on deck or below, or up aloft in the dark, when, reaching for another hold on a shroud or a backstay, he would touchsomething soft and furry, and feel the teeth and hear the squeak thatspelled death for him. 

"In two weeks from the death of the first sailor, seven others weresick; and all went through the symptoms--restlessness, talkativeness, and the tendency to belittle the case and to deny their danger. But thereal symptom, which they had to accept themselves, was their inabilityto drink water. It was frightful to see the poor wretches, staggeringaround with eyes wide open and the terrible fear of death in them, going to the barrel for a drink, only to tumble back in convulsions atthe sight of the water. We strapped them down as they needed it, andthey died, one by one; for there was no helping them. 

"We had started with a crew of twenty, a carpenter, sailmaker, steward, and cook, besides the mate and myself. Eight were gone now, and fromthe exhaustion of the remainder, due to extra work and loss of sleep, it became difficult to work ship. Men aloft moved slowly, fearing atany moment the sting of small, sharp teeth. Skysails, royals, andstaysails blew away before men could get up to furl them. Gear that hadparted was left unrove; for a panic-stricken crew cannot be bullied orcoerced. Any of them would take a knock-down from the mate or myselfrather than go aloft at night. 

"We got clear of the doldrums in time, and by then six more of thecrew, including the cook, had been bitten, and things looked bad. I nowstrongly advised the mate to put in to St. -Louis or some other port onthe African coast, land the crew, and wait until the last rat had beenbitten by his fellow and died; but he would not have it. To land themen, he said, meant to lose them, and to wait until another crew wassent by the owners. This would be loss of time, money, and prospects. Icould only give way, even though the last item pertained solely to him. I was not a navigator, and did not hope for promotion to a command. 

"So we held on, dodging the crazed men when the disease had reachedtheir brains, knocking them down and binding them when necessary, andwatching them die in their tracks like so many mad dogs. And all thistime the number of rats that sought the deck for light and air wasincreasing. We carried belaying pins in our boots now, ready to swipe arat that got too close; but as for killing them all this way, it wasbeyond any chance. There were too many, and they ran too fast. Beforethe six men had died, others had been bitten, and one had felt theteeth of a maddened shipmate. So the terrible game continued; we hadonly seven men before the mast now, and the carpenter and sailmaker hadto drop their work and stand watch, while the steward quit being asteward to cook for those that were left. 

"The man at the wheel had heard me arguing with the mate about makingport, and, counting upon my sympathy, had prevailed upon the othersforward to insist upon it. Well, you know the feeling of an officer upagainst mutiny. No matter what the provocation, he must put the mutinydown; so, when the men came aft, they found me with the mate, and deadagainst them. We called their bluff, drove them forward at the muzzlesof our guns, and promised them relief from all work except handlingsail if they would take the ship to Queenstown. They agreed, becausethey could not do anything else, and the mutiny was over. But myconscience bothered me later on; for if I had joined them, some livesmight have been saved. Even though the mate was a big, courageousIrish-American half again as heavy as myself, he could not have heldout against me with the crew at my back. But, you see, it would havebeen mutiny, and mutiny spells with a big M to a man that knows thelaw. 

"Before we reached the Bay of Biscay every man forward, including thecarpenter, sailmaker, and steward, had been bitten, either by a mad rator a mad shipmate, and was more or less along on the way to convulsionsand death. The decks, rails, and rigging, the tops, crosstrees, andyards, swarmed with rats darting along aimlessly biting each other, andgoing on, frothing at their little mouths, and squeaking in pain. Bythis time all thought of handling the ship was gone from us. The mateand I took turns at steering, and keeping our eyes open for a sail. Buta curious thing about that passage is that from the time we dropped theFarallones, off 'Frisco, we did not speak a single craft in all thatlong four months of sailing. Once in a while a steamer's smoke wouldshow up on the horizon, and again a speck that might be a sail wouldheave in sight for an hour or so; but nothing came near us. 

"The mate and I began to quarrel. We had heeled ourselves with pistolsagainst a possible assault of some frenzied sailor, but there wasstrong chance that we might use these playthings on each other. Iupbraided the mate for not putting in to St. -Louis, and he got back atme for advising him against putting in to Montevideo. It was not aneven argument, for the first sailor had not been bitten at the time Iadvised him. But it resulted in bad feeling between us. We kept ourtempers, however, and kept the maddened men away from us until theydied, one by one; then, with the wheel in beckets, and the shipsteering herself before the wind, we hove the bodies overboard. Therewas no funeral service now; we had become savages. 

"'Well, ' said the mate, as the last body floated astern, 'that's done. Take your wheel. I'm going to sleep. '

"'Look out, ' I said, grimly, 'that it's not your last. '

"'What do you mean?' he asked, eying me in an ugly way. 'Do you strikesleeping men?'

"'No; but rats bite sleeping men, ' I answered. 'And understand, Mr. Barnes, I'd rather you'd live than die, so that I may live myself. Withboth alive and one awake a passing ship could be seen and signaled. With one dead and the other asleep, a ship might pass by. I shall keepa lookout. '

"'Oh, that's all, is it? Well, if that's all, keep your lookout. ' Hisugly disposition still held him. He went down, and I steered, keeping asharp lookout around; for I knew that up in the bay there were surechances of something coming along. But nothing appeared, and before anhour had passed, Mr. Barnes was up, sucking his wrist, and lookingwildly at me. 

"'My God, Draper, ' he said, 'I've got it! I killed the rat, but he'skilled me. '

"'Well, Mr. Barnes, ' I said, as he strode up to me, 'I'm sorry for you;but what do you want?--what I would want in your place?--a bulletthrough the head?'

"'No, no. ' He sucked madly at his wrist, where showed the four littlered spots. 

"'Well, I'll tell you, Barnes. You've shown antagonism to me, andyou're likely to carry it into your delirium when it comes. I'll notshoot you until you menace me; then, unless I am too far gone myself, I'll shoot you dead, not only in self-defense, but as an act of mercy. '

"'And you?' he rejoined. 'You--you--you are to live and get command ofthe ship?'

"'No, ' I answered, hotly. 'I can't get command. I'm not certificated. Iwant my life, that's all. '

"He left me without another word, and stamped forward. Rats ran up hisclothing, reaching for his throat, but he brushed them off and went on, around the forward house, and then aft to me. 

"'Draper, ' he said, in a choked voice, 'I've got to die. I know it. Iknow it as none of the men knew it. And it means more to me. '

"'No, it doesn't. Life was as sweet to them as to you or the skipper. '

"'But I've a Master's license. All I wanted was my chance, and Ithought my chance had come. Draper, if I'd taken this ship into portI'd have been a hero and obtained my command. '

"'So, that's your cheap way of looking at it, is it?' I answered, as Ihove on the wheel and kicked rats from underfoot. 'A hero by the tollof twenty-four deaths. Down off the river Plate I didn't realize thehorror of all this. Off St. -Louis I did, and advised you. Youwithstood, to be a hero. Well, I'm sorry for you, that's all. '

"A big rat jumped from the wheel-box at this moment, climbed myclothing, and had reached my chest before I knocked it off with myfist. 

"'You see, Barnes, the rat does not know, and I did not kill it. Butyou do know, and I shall hasten your death with a bullet if youapproach me. It will not be murder, nor manslaughter. It will be an actof mercy; but I cannot do it now. See how I feel?'

"'Oh, God!' he shrieked, running away from me. He reached the break ofthe poop, then turned and came back. 

"'Got your gun on you, Draper? Kill me now; kill me, and have it overwith. I'm down and done for. There's nothing more for me. '

"I refused; and yet I know that with regard to that man's mental agonyfor the next few days, culminating in the first physical symptoms ofunrest, fever, and thirst, I should have obeyed his request. He wasdoomed, and knew it. And he was a madman from mental causes before thephysical had produced effects, even though the disease ran its coursequickly in him. On the third day he was raving of a black-eyed womanwho kept a candy store in Boston, and who had promised to marry himwhen he obtained command. 

"I got out a bottle of bromide from the medicine chest and inducedBarnes to take a good dose of it. He drank about half a teacup of it, and in an hour was asleep. Then, clad in boots and mittens, with asailor's clothes-bag over my head, I went aloft and lashed myself inthe mizzentopmast crosstrees, where I obtained about six hours' sleep, which I needed badly. Barnes was worse when I came down; three morerats had bitten him, he declared, and he begged me to shoot him. Itnever occurred to him to do the job himself, and I couldn't suggest itto him. 

"'Well, Draper, ' he said at last, 'I'm going, and I know it. Now, ifyou escape, sometime you'll be in Boston. Will you take the street-carout the Boston Road, and at Number 24 Middlesex Place drop in and say afew words to that woman? Call her Kate, and say we were shipmates, andI told you to. Tell her about this, and that I thought of her, anddidn't want to die because of her. Tell her, will you, Draper?'

"'Barnes, I promise, ' I said. 'I will hunt up or write to that woman ifI get ashore. I'll tell her all about it. Now, go and lie down. '

"But he couldn't lie down; and when the time came that I had to sleepin the crosstrees again, I found, on waking, that Barnes had followedme, and in some way had got my gun out of my pocket. I knew he had itby the insane way he laughed as I came down from my perch. I huntedthrough the cabin for pistols or rifles, but he had been ahead of me;and as I came up and he stood near the wheel--the wheel, likeeverything else, was neglected now--there was a crazy look in his eyesthat meant bad luck for me. 

"'Going to kill me, weren't you?' he chuckled. 'Well, you won't. Norwill you get that woman out the Boston Road. I'm dead on to you, youdog. And you'll get no credit for the advice you gave--that I put downin the log. Not much you won't. '

"He darted into the cabin and returned with the ship's log, which hehad charge of, and the official log of the skipper. I do not know whatwas entered in them, but he tossed them overboard. 

"'There goes your record of efficiency, ' he said. 

"He came toward me on the run, his eyes blazing, but I did not budge. He made no gun-play, but put up his fists, and I met him; I was used tothis form of fighting. However, I went down before his plunges andpunches, and realized that I was up against a bigger, heavier, strongerman than myself, and could not hope to win. I'm no small boy, as yousee, but Barnes was a giant, and a skilled fighter. 

"I got away from him and kept away. I wanted to hoist an ensign, uniondown, but the lunatic prevented me; his intelligence had left him. Hewatched me as a cat watches a mouse, or I might have brought ahandspike down on his head and ended his troubles and some of my own. And it would have been no foul play to have done so; but I could not. He followed me everywhere, ready to pounce upon me at the first move Imade. 

"I spent that night walking away from him as he nosed me around thedeck, and brushing off the crazy rats that climbed my legs. I did notdare make for the rigging, for without my bag I would have been worseoff than on deck, and at such a move he would have jumped on me. But inthe morning he had his first convulsion, and it left him a wreck. Whilehe lay gasping and choking on the deck, with equally afflicted ratscrawling over him and nipping where they felt flesh, I managed to get abite from the steward's storeroom, and it roused me up and strengthenedme. I came out, resolved to bind him down, but I was too late. He wason his feet, the paroxysm gone, crazy as ever, and, though weak, stillable to master me. 

"The ship was rolling heavily in the trough of a Biscay sea, which, nomatter how the wind, is a violent, troublesome heave of cross-forces. The upper canvas was carried away, or hanging in the buntlines. Some ofthe braces were adrift and the yards swinging. We had the coursesclewed up when the men were alive, and the lower yards were fairlysquare; so the ship, with the aid of the head-sails, kept the canvasfull, and she sailed along, manned by a crew of rabid rats, a crazyfirst mate, and a half-crazy second mate. I knew I was half-crazy, forI had a fixed, insistent thought that would not go--that of a littleschool-ma'am who had whipped me in childhood. I deserved the whipping, but--Lord, how I hated her now!

"I feared the mate. He was again nosing me around the deck, glaringmurder at me and talking to himself. I feared him more than I fearedthe rats, for I could brush them off. I could not get out of his sight;but I did venture on grabbing a circular life-buoy from thequarter-rail as I passed it, and slipping it over my head, and he didnot seem to notice the maneuver. I was resolved, as a last resort, tojump into the sea with this scant protection against death by drowning, hunger, or thirst, rather than risk another assault by this lunatic ora bite from a rat. These were numbered now by the thousands. The deckwas black with them in places, and here and there a rope was as bigaround as a stove-pipe. 

"All was quiet this last day aboard. The mate busied himself infollowing me around, talking to the rats and to himself, even as theybit him, and I busied myself in quietly keeping out of his way andbrushing off rats that climbed my legs. I was dead tired, being on myfeet so long, and in sheer desperation and love of life I hoped foranother convulsion that would give me relief from the strain. Butbefore it came to him I was out of his way, and, I strongly suspect, hewas out of the way of the convulsion. 

"He caught me on the forecastle deck and made for me, half mad from thedisease, but wholly mad from his mental state. There was no escapeexcept out the head-gear, and I went that way, with him after me. Outthe bowsprit, on to the jib foot-ropes, and out toward the end I went, hoping to reach the martingale-stay and slip down it to the back-ropes. I did so, but he scrambled down, tumbling and clutching, and gripped mejust abaft the dolphin-striker. His face was twisted in frenzy, and hegrowled and barked like a dog, occasionally breaking into a horrible, rat-like squeal. But he didn't bite me; he simply squeezed me in botharms, and in that effort lost his hold on the back-rope and fell, taking me with him. We struck the water together, and his griploosened, for he was now up against something too strong for him--thesound and sight and feeling of cold water. When we came up, thecutwater was between us, and I didn't see him again, though I heard hisconvulsive gurgling and screaming from the other side of the ship. Thenthe sounds stopped, and I think he must have gone under; but I was toobusy with myself to speculate much. I was trying to get a finger-nailgrip on that smooth, black side slipping by me, but could not. Therewas nothing to get hold of, and no ropes were hanging over. Then Ithought of the rudder and the iron bumpkin on it that the rudder-chainsfastened to, and swam with all my strength under the quarter as it camealong. But it was no good. The life-buoy hampered me in swimming, and Imissed the rudder by an inch. 

"The ship went on and left me alone on the sea. I remember very littleof it. I think my mind must have slowly gone out of me, leaving meanother person. I remember a few sensations--and it only seems like aweek ago to me--one, of being alone on the surface of the sea at night, supported by the life-buoy; and then, I seemed to be back among therats, but that was just as I wakened on your floor here. The nextsensation was the sight of you, and the sound of your voice, speakingto me, and then the knowledge that I was really alive and ashore. "

"And the woman out the Boston Road?" I inquired at length. 

"I will write to her as I promised. But I will not go there. Boston istoo close to the sea. "

FROM THE DARKNESS AND THE DEPTHS

I had known him for a painter of renown--a master of his art, whosepictures, which sold for high prices, adorned museums, the parlors ofthe rich, and, when on exhibition, were hung low and conspicuous. Also, I knew him for an expert photographer--an "art photographer, " as theysay, one who dealt with this branch of industry as a fad, an amusement, and who produced pictures that in composition, lights, and shadesrivaled his productions with the brush. 

His cameras were the best that the market could supply, yet he wasable, from his knowledge of optics and chemistry, to improve them forhis own uses far beyond the ability of the makers. His studio wasfilled with examples of his work, and his mind was stocked withinformation and opinions on all subjects ranging from internationalpolicies to the servant-girl problem. 

He was a man of the world, gentlemanly and successful, about sixtyyears old, kindly and gracious of manner, and out of this kindlinessand graciousness had granted me the compliment of his friendship, andaccess to his studio whenever I felt like calling upon him. 

Yet it never occurred to me that the wonderful and technically correctmarines hanging on his walls were due to anything but the artist'sconscientious study of his subject, and only his casualmispronounciation of the word "leeward, " which landsmen pronounce asspelled, but which rolls off the tongue of a sailor, be he former dockrat or naval officer, as "looward, " and his giving the long sounds tothe vowels of the words "patent" and "tackle, " that induced me to askif he had ever been to sea. 

"Why, yes, " he answered. "Until I was thirty I had no higher ambitionthan to become a skipper of some craft; but I never achieved it. Thebest I did was to sign first mate for one voyage--and that one was mylast. It was on that voyage that I learned something of the mysteriousproperties of light, and it made me a photographer, then an artist. Youare wrong when you say that a searchlight cannot penetrate fog. "

"But it has been tried, " I remonstrated. 

"With ordinary light. Yes, of course, subject to refraction, reflection, and absorption by the millions of minute globules of water it encounters. "

We had been discussing the wreck of the _Titanic_, the most terriblemarine disaster of history, the blunders of construction andmanagement, and the later proposed improvements as to the lowering ofboats and the location of ice in a fog. 

Among these considerations was also the plan of carrying a powerfulsearchlight whose beam would illumine the path of a twenty-knot linerand render objects visible in time to avoid them. In regard to this Ihad contended that a searchlight could not penetrate fog, and if itcould, would do as much harm as good by blinding and confusing thewatch officers and lookouts on other craft. 

"But what other kind of light can be used?" I asked, in answer to hismention of ordinary light. 

"Invisible light, " he answered. "I do not mean the Röntgen ray, nor theemanation from radium, both of which are invisible, but neither ofwhich is light, in that neither can be reflected nor refracted. Bothwill penetrate many different kinds of matter, but it needs reflectionor refraction to make visible an object on which it impinges. Understand?"

"Hardly, " I answered dubiously. "What kind of visible light is there, if not radium or the Röntgen ray? You can photograph with either, can'tyou?"

"Yes, but to see what you have photographed you must develop the film. And there is no time for that aboard a fast steamer running through theice and the fog. No, it is mere theory, but I have an idea that theultraviolet light--the actinic rays beyond the violet end of thespectrum, you know--will penetrate fog to a great distance, and inspite of its higher refractive power, which would distort and magnifyan object, it is better than nothing. "

"But what makes you think that it will penetrate fog?" I queried. "Andif it is invisible itself, how will it illumine an object?"

"As to your first question, " he answered, with a smile, "it is wellknown to surgeons that ultraviolet light will penetrate the human bodyto the depth of an inch, while the visible rays are reflected at thesurface. And it has been known to photographers for fifty years thatthis light--easily isolated by dispersion through prisms--will act on asensitized plate in an utterly dark room. "

"Granted, " I said. "But how about the second question? How can you seeby this light?"

"There you have me, " he answered. "It will need a quicker developmentthan any now known to photography--a traveling film, for instance, thatwill show the picture of an iceberg or a ship before it is too late toavoid it--a traveling film sensitized by a quicker acting chemical thanany now used. "

"Why not puzzle it out?" I asked. "It would be a wonderful invention. "

"I am too old, " he answered dreamily. "My life work is about done. Butother and younger men will take it up. We have made great strides inoptics. The moving picture is a fact. Colored photographs are possible. The ultraviolet microscope shows us objects hitherto invisible becausesmaller than the wave length of visible light. We shall ultimately usethis light to see through opaque objects. We shall see colors neverimagined by the human mind, but which have existed since the beginningof light. 

"We shall see new hues in the sunset, in the rainbow, in the flowersand foliage of forest and field. We may possibly see creatures in theair above never seen before. 

"We shall certainly see creatures from the depths of the sea, wherevisible light cannot reach--creatures whose substance is of such anature that it will not respond to the light it has never been exposedto--a substance which is absolutely transparent because it will notabsorb, and appear black; will not reflect, and show a color of somekind; and will not refract, and distort objects seen through it. "

"What!" I exclaimed. "Do you think there are invisible creatures?"

He looked gravely at me for a moment, then said: "You know that thereare sounds that are inaudible to the human ear because of their toorapid vibration, others that are audible to some, but not to all. Thereare men who cannot hear the chirp of a cricket, the tweet of a bird, orthe creaking of a wagon wheel. 

"You know that there are electric currents much stronger in voltagethan is necessary to kill us, but of wave frequency so rapid that thehuman tissue will not respond, and we can receive such currents withouta shock. And _I know_"--he spoke with vehemence--"that there arecreatures in the deep sea of color invisible to the human eye, for Ihave not only felt such a creature, but seen its photograph taken bythe ultraviolet light. "

"Tell me, " I asked breathlessly. "Creatures solid, but invisible?"

"Creatures solid, and invisible because absolutely transparent. It islong since I have told the yarn. People would not believe me, and itwas so horrible an experience that I have tried to forget it. However, if you care for it, and are willing to lose your sleep to-night, I'llgive it to you. "

He reached for a pipe, filled it, and began to smoke; and as he smokedand talked, some of the glamor and polish of the successful artist andclubman left him. He was an old sailor, spinning a yarn. 

"It was about thirty years ago, " he began, "or, to be explicit, twenty-nine years this coming August, at the time of the great Javaearthquake. You've heard of it--how it killed seventy thousand people, thirty thousand of whom were drowned by the tidal wave. 

"It was a curious phenomenon; Krakatoa Island, a huge conical mountainrising from the bottom of Sunda Strait, went out of existence, while inJava a mountain chain was leveled, and up from the bowels of the earthcame an iceberg--as you might call it--that floated a hundred miles ona stream of molten lava before melting. 

"I was not there; I was two hundred miles to the sou'west, first mateof one of those old-fashioned, soft-pine, centerboard barkentines--threesticks the same length, you know--with the mainmast stepped on the portside of the keel to make room for the centerboard--a craft that wouldneither stay, nor wear, nor scud, nor heave to, like a decent vessel. 

"But she had several advantages; she was new, and well painted, deck, top-sides, and bottom. Hence her light timbers and planking were notwater-soaked. She was fastened with 'trunnels, ' not spikes and bolts, and hemp rigged. 

"Perhaps there was not a hundredweight of iron aboard of her, while herhemp rigging, though heavier than water, was lighter than wire rope, and so, when we were hit by the back wash of that tidal wave, we didnot sink, even though butts were started from one end to the other ofthe flimsy hull, and all hatches were ripped off. 

"I have called it the back wash, yet we may have had a tidal wave ofour own; for, though we had no knowledge of the frightful catastropheat Java, still there had been for days several submarine earthquakesall about us, sending fountains of water, steam bubbles, and mud fromthe sea bed into the air. 

"As the soundings were over two thousand fathoms in that neighborhood, you can imagine the seismic forces at work beneath us. There had beenno wind for days, and no sea, except the agitation caused by theupheavals. The sky was a dull mud color, and the sun looked likenothing but a dark, red ball, rising day by day in the east, to moveoverhead and set in the west. The air was hot, sultry, and stifling, and I had difficulty in keeping the men--a big crew--at work. 

"The conditions would try anybody's temper, and I had my own troubles. There was a passenger on board, a big, fat, highly educated German--ascientist and explorer--whom we had taken aboard at some little town onthe West Australian coast, and who was to leave us at Batavia, where hecould catch a steamer for Germany. 

"He had a whole laboratory with him, with scientific instruments that Ididn't know the names of, with maps he had made, stuffed beasts andbirds he had killed, and a few live ones which he kept in cages andattended to himself in the empty hold; for we were flying light, youknow, without even ballast aboard, and bound to Batavia for a cargo. 

"It was after a few eruptions from the bottom of the sea that he got tobe a nuisance; he was keenly interested in the strange dead fish andnondescript creatures that had been thrown up. He declared them new, unknown to science, and wore out my patience with entreaties to haulthem aboard for examination and classification. 

"I obliged him for a time, until the decks stank with dead fish, andthe men got mutinous. Then I refused to advance the interests ofscience any farther, and, in spite of his excitement and pleadings, refused to litter the decks any more. But he got all he wanted of theunclassified and unknown before long. 

"Tidal wave, you know, is a name we give to any big wave, and it has nonecessary connection with the tides. It may be the big third wave of aseries--just a little bigger than usual; it may be the ninth, tenth, and eleventh waves merged into one huge comber by uneven wind pressure;it may be the back wash from an earthquake that depresses the nearestcoast, and it may be--as I think it was in our case--a wave sent out byan upheaval from the sea bed. At any rate, we got it, and we got itjust after a tremendous spouting of water and mud, and a thick cloud ofsteam on the northern horizon. 

"We saw a seeming rise to the horizon, as though caused by refraction, but which soon eliminated refraction as a cause by its becoming visiblein its details--its streaks of water and mud, its irregular upper edge, the occasional combers that appeared on this edge, and the terrificspeed of its approach. It was a wave, nothing else, and coming at fortyknots at least. 

"There was little that we could do; there was no wind, and we headedabout west, showing our broadside; yet I got the men at the downhauls, clewlines, and stripping lines of the lighter kites; but before a mancould leave the deck to furl, that moving mountain hit us, and buriedus on our beam ends just as I had time to sing out: 'Lash yourselves, every man. '

"Then I needed to think of my own safety and passed a turn of themizzen gaff-topsail downhaul about me, belaying to a pin as thecataclysm hit us. For the next two minutes--although it seemed an hour, I did not speak, nor breathe, nor think, unless my instinctive grip onthe turns of the downhaul on the pin may have been an index of thought. I was under water; there was roaring in my ears, pain in my lungs, andterror in my heart. 

"Then there came a lessening of the turmoil, a momentary quiet, and Iroused up, to find the craft floating on her side, about a third out ofwater, but apt to turn bottom up at any moment from the weight of thewater-soaked gear and canvas, which will sink, you know, when wet. 

"I was hanging in my bight of rope from a belaying pin, my feet clearof the perpendicular deck, and my ears tortured by the sound of menoverboard crying for help--men who had not lashed themselves. Amongthem I knew was the skipper, a mild-mannered little fellow, and thesecond mate, an incompetent tough from Portsmouth, who had caused melots of trouble by his abuse of the men and his depending upon me tostand by him. 

"Nothing could be done for them; they were adrift on the back wall of amoving mountain that towered thirty degrees above the horizon to port;and another moving mountain, as big as the first, was coming on fromstarboard--caused by the tumble into the sea of the uplifted water. 

"Did you ever fall overboard in a full suit of clothes? If you did, youknow the mighty exercise of strength required to climb out. I was astrong, healthy man at the time, but never in my life was I so tested. I finally got a grip on the belaying pin and rested; then, with aneffort that caused me physical pain, I got my right foot up to thepinrail and rested again; then, perhaps more by mental strength thanphysical--for I loved life and wanted to live--I hooked my right footover the rail, reached higher on the rope, rested again, and finallyhove myself up to the mizzen rigging, where I sat for a few moments toget my breath, and think, and look around. 

"Forward, I saw men who had lashed themselves to the starboard rail, and they were struggling, as I had struggled, to get up to thehorizontal side of the vessel. They succeeded, but at the time I had nouse for them. Sailors will obey orders, if they understand the orders, but this was an exigency outside the realm of mere seamanship. 

"Men were drowning off to port; men, like myself, were climbing up totemporary safety afforded by the topsides of a craft on her beam ends;and aft, in the alleyway, was the German professor, unlashed, but safeand secure in his narrow confines, one leg through a cabin window, andboth hands gripping the rail, while he bellowed like a bull, not forhimself, however--but for his menagerie in the empty hold. 

"There was small chance for the brutes--smaller than for ourselves, left on the upper rail of an over-turned craft, and still smaller thanthe chance of the poor devils off to port, some of whom had gripped thehalf-submerged top-hamper, and were calling for help. 

"We could not help them; she was a Yankee craft, and there was not alife buoy or belt on board; and who, with another big wave coming, would swim down to looward with a line?

"Landsmen, especially women and boys, have often asked me why a woodenship, filled with water, sinks, even though not weighted with cargo. Some sailors have pondered over it, too, knowing that a small boat, built of wood, and fastened with nails, will float if water-logged. 

"But the answer is simple. Most big craft are built of oak or hardpine, and fastened together with iron spikes and bolts--sixty tons atleast to a three-hundred-ton schooner. After a year or two this hard, heavy wood becomes water-soaked, and, with the iron bolts and spikes, is heavier than water, and will sink when the hold is flooded. 

"This craft of ours was like a small boat--built of soft light wood, with trunnels instead of bolts, and no iron on board except the anchorsand one capstan. As a result, though ripped, twisted, broken, anddisintegrated, she still floated even on her beam ends. 

"But the soaked hemp rigging and canvas might be enough to drag thecraft down, and with this fear in my mind I acted quickly. Singing outto the men to hang on, I made my way aft to where we had an ax, lodgedin its beckets on the after house. With this I attacked the mizzenlanyards, cutting everything clear, then climbed forward to the main. 

"Hard as I worked I had barely cut the last lanyard when that secondwave loomed up and crashed down on us. I just had time to slip into thebight of a rope, and save myself; but I had to give up the ax; itslipped from my hands and slid down to the port scuppers. 

"That second wave, in its effect, was about the same as the first, except that it righted the craft. We were buried, choked, and halfdrowned; but when the wave had passed on, the main and mizzenmasts, unsupported by the rigging that I had cut away, snapped cleanly aboutthree feet above the deck, and the broad, flat-bottomed craftstraightened up, lifting the weight of the foremast and its gear, andlay on an even keel, with foresail, staysail, and jib set, the foregaff-topsail, flying jib, and jib-topsail clewed down and the wreck ofthe masts bumping against the port side. 

"We floated, but with the hold full of water, and four feet of it ondeck amidships that surged from one rail to the other as the craftrolled, pouring over and coming back. All hatches were ripped off, andour three boats were carried away from their chocks on the house. 

"Six men were clearing themselves from their lashings at the forerigging, and three more, who had gone overboard with the first sea, andhad caught the upper gear to be lifted as the craft righted, werecoming down, while the professor still declaimed from the alley. 

"'Hang on all, ' I yelled; 'there's another sea coming. '

"It came, but passed over us without doing any more damage, and thougha fourth, fifth, and sixth followed, each was of lesser force than thelast, and finally it was safe to leave the rail and wade about, thoughwe still rolled rails under in what was left of the turmoil. 

"Luckily, there was no wind, though I never understood why, forearthquakes are usually accompanied by squalls. However, even withwind, our canvas would have been no use to us; for, waterlogged as wewere, we couldn't have made a knot an hour, nor could we have steered, even with all sail set. All we could hope for was the appearance ofsome craft that would tow the ripped and shivered hull to port, or atleast take us off. 

"So, while I searched for the ax, and the professor searched into thedepths under the main hatch for signs of his menagerie--all drowned, surely--the remnant of the crew lowered the foresail and jibs, stowingthem as best they could. 

"I found the ax, and found it just in time; for I was attacked by whatcould have been nothing but a small-sized sea serpent, that had beenhove up to the surface and washed aboard us. It was only about six feetlong, but it had a mouth like a bulldog, and a row of spikes along itsback that could have sawed a man's leg off. 

"I managed to kill it before it harmed me, and chucked it overboardagainst the protests of the professor, who averred that I took nointerest in science. 

"'No, I don't, ' I said to him. 'I've other things to think of. And you, too. You'd better go below and clean up your instruments, or you'llfind them ruined by salt water. '

"He looked sorrowfully and reproachfully at me, and started to wadeaft; but he halted at the forward companion, and turned, for a screamof agony rang out from the forecastle deck, where the men were comingin from the jibs, and I saw one of them writhing on his back, apparently in a fit, while the others stood wonderingly around. 

"The forecastle deck was just out of water, and there was no wash; butin spite of this, the wriggling, screaming man slid head-first alongthe break and plunged into the water on the main deck. 

"I scrambled forward, still carrying the ax, and the men tumbled downinto the water after the man; but we could not get near him. We couldsee him under water, feebly moving, but not swimming; and yet he shotthis way and that faster than a man ever swam; and once, as he passednear me, I noticed a gaping wound in his neck, from which the blood wasflowing in a stream--a stream like a current, which did not mix withthe water and discolor it. 

"Soon his movements ceased, and I waded toward him; but he shot swiftlyaway from me, and I did not follow, for something cold, slimy, and firmtouched my hand--something in the water, but which I could not see. 

"I floundered back, still holding the ax, and sang out to the men tokeep away from the dead man; for he was surely dead by now. He layclose to the break of the topgallant forecastle, on the starboard side;and as the men mustered around me I gave one my ax, told the rest tosecure others, and to chop away the useless wreck pounding our portside--useless because it was past all seamanship to patch up thatbasketlike hull, pump it out, and raise jury rigging. 

"While they were doing it, I secured a long pike pole from its beckets, and, joined by the professor, cautiously approached the body proddingahead of me. 

"As I neared the dead man, the pike pole was suddenly torn from mygrasp, one end sank to the deck, while the other raised above thewater; then it slid upward, fell, and floated close to me. I seized itagain and turned to the professor. 

"'What do you make of this, Herr Smidt?' I asked. 'There is somethingdown there that we cannot see--something that killed that man. See theblood?'

"He peered closely at the dead man, who looked curiously distorted andshrunken, four feet under water. But the blood no longer was a thinstream issuing from his neck; it was gathered into a misshapen massabout two feet away from his neck. 

"'Nonsense, ' he answered. 'Something alive which we cannot see iscontrary to all laws of physics. Der man must have fallen und hurthimself, which accounts for der bleeding. Den he drowned in der water. Do you see?--mine Gott! What iss?'

"He suddenly went under water himself, and dropping the pike pole, Igrabbed him by the collar and braced myself. Something was pulling himaway from me, but I managed to get his head out, and he spluttered:

"'Help! Holdt on to me. Something haf my right foot. '

"'Lend a hand here, ' I yelled to the men, and a few joined me, grabbinghim by his clothing. Together we pulled against the invisible force, and finally all of us went backward, professor and all, nearly to drownourselves before regaining our feet. Then, as the agitated watersmoothed, I distinctly saw the mass of red move slowly forward anddisappear in the darkness under the forecastle deck. 

"'You were right, mine friend, ' said the professor, who, in spite ofhis experience, held his nerve. 'Dere is something invisible in derwater--something dangerous, something which violates all laws ofphysics und optics. Oh, mine foot, how it hurts!'

"'Get aft, ' I answered, 'and find out what ails it. And you fellows, ' Iadded to the men, 'keep away from the forecastle deck. Whatever it is, it has gone under it. '

"Then I grabbed the pike pole again, cautiously hooked the barb intothe dead man's clothing, and, assisted by the men, pulled him aft tothe poop, where the professor had preceded, and was examining hisankle. There was a big, red wale around it, in the middle of which wasa huge blood blister. He pricked it with his knife, then rearranged hisstocking and joined us as we lifted the body. 

"'Great God, sir!' exclaimed big Bill, the bosun. 'Is that Frank? Iwouldn't know him. '

"Frank, the dead man, had been strong, robust, and full-blooded. But hebore no resemblance to his living self. He lay there, shrunken, shortened, and changed, a look of agony on his emaciated face, and hishands clenched--not extended like those of one drowned. 

"'I thought drowned men swelled up, ' ventured one of the men. 

"'He was not drowned, ' said Herr Smidt. 'He was sucked dry, like alemon. Perhaps in his whole body there is not an ounce of blood, norlymph, nor fluid of any kind. '

"I secured an iron belaying pin, tucked it inside his shirt, and wehove him overboard at once; for, in the presence of this horror, wewere not in the mood for a burial service. There we were, eleven men ona water-logged hulk, adrift on a heaving, greasy sea, with a dark-redsun showing through a muddy sky above, and an invisible _thing_ forwardthat might seize any of us at any moment it chose, in the water or out;for Frank had been caught and dragged down. 

"Still, I ordered the men, cook, steward, and all, to remain on thepoop and--the galley being forward--to expect no hot meals, as we couldsubsist for a time on the cold, canned food in the storeroom andlazaret. 

"Because of an early friction between the men and the second mate, themild-mannered and peace-loving skipper had forbidden the crew to wearsheath knives; but in this exigency I overruled the edict. While theprofessor went down into his flooded room to doctor his ankle andattend to his instruments, I raided the slop chest, and armed every manof us with a sheath knife and belt; for while we could not see thecreature, we could feel it--and a knife is better than a gun in ahand-to-hand fight. 

"Then we sat around, waiting, while the sky grew muddier, the sundarker, and the northern horizon lighter with a reddish glow that wasbetter than the sun. It was the Java earthquake, but we did not know itfor a long time. 

"Soon the professor appeared and announced that his instruments were ingood condition, and stowed high on shelves above the water. 

"'I must resensitize my plates, however, ' he said. 'Der salt water hasspoiled them; but mine camera merely needs to dry out; und minetelescope, und mine static machine und Leyden jars--why, der water didnot touch them. '

"'Well, ' I answered. 'That's all right. But what good are they in theface of this emergency? Are you thinking of photographing anythingnow?'

"'Perhaps. I haf been thinking some. '

"'Have you thought out what that creature is--forward, there?'

"'Partly. It is some creature thrown up from der bottom of der sea, undwashed on board by der wave. Light, like wave motion, ends at a certaindepth, you know; und we have over twelve thousand feet beneath us. Atthat depth dere is absolute darkness, but we know that creatures livedown dere, und fight, und eat, und die. '

"'But what of it? Why can't we see that thing?'

"'Because, in der ages that haf passed in its evolution from deroriginal moneron, it has never been exposed to light--I mean visiblelight, der light that contains der seven colors of der spectrum. Henceit may not respond to der three properties of visible light--reflection, which would give it a color of some kind; absorption, which would makeit appear black; or refraction, which, in der absence of der other two, would distort things seen through it. For it would be transparent, youknow. '

"'But what can be done?' I asked helplessly, for I could not understandat the time what he meant. 

"'Nothing, except that der next man attacked must use his knife. If hecannot see der creature, he can feel it. Und perhaps--I do not knowyet--perhaps, in a way, we may see it--its photograph. '

"I looked blankly at him, thinking he might have gone crazy, but hecontinued. 

"'You know, ' he said, 'that objects too small to be seen by themicroscope, because smaller than der amplitude of der shortest wave ofvisible light, can be seen when exposed to der ultraviolet light--derdark light beyond der spectrum? Und you know that this light is whatacts der most in photography? That it exposes on a sensitized plate newstars in der heavens invisible to der eye through the strongesttelescope?'

"'Don't know anything about it, ' I answered. 'But if you can find a wayout of this scrape we're in, go ahead. '

"'I must think, ' he said dreamily. 'I haf a rock-crystal lens which ispermeable to this light, und which I can place in mine camera. I musthave a concave mirror, not of glass, which is opaque to this light, butof metal. '

"'What for?' I asked. 

"'To throw der ultraviolet light on der beast. I can generate it withmine static machine. '

"'How will one of our lantern reflectors do? They are of polished tin, I think. '

"'Good! I can repolish one. '

"We had one deck lantern larger than usual, with a metallic reflectorthat concentrated the light into a beam, much as do the present daysearchlights. This I procured from the lazaret, and he pronounced itavailable. Then he disappeared, to tinker up his apparatus. 

"Night came down, and I lighted three masthead lights, to hoist at thefore to inform any passing craft that we were not under command; but, as I would not send a man forward on that job, I went myself, carefullyfeeling my way with the pike pole. Luckily, I escaped contact with thecreature, and returned to the poop, where we had a cold supper ofcanned cabin stores. 

"The top of the house was dry, but it was cold, especially so as wewere all drenched to the skin. The steward brought up all the blanketsthere were in the cabin--for even a wet blanket is better than none atall--but there were not enough to go around, and one man volunteered, against my advice, to go forward and bring aft bedding from theforecastle. 

"He did not come back; we heard his yell, that finished with a gurgle;but in that pitch black darkness, relieved only by the red glow fromthe north, not one of us dared to venture to his rescue. We knew thathe would be dead, anyhow, before we could get to him; so we stoodwatch, sharing the blankets we had when our time came to sleep. 

"It was a wretched night that we spent on the top of that after house. It began to rain before midnight, the heavy drops coming down almost insolid waves; then came wind, out of the south, cold and biting, withreal waves, that rolled even over the house, forcing us to lashourselves. The red glow to the north was hidden by the rain and spume, and, to add to our discomfort, we were showered with ashes, which, eventhough the surface wind was from the south, must have been brought fromthe north by an upper air current. 

"We did not find the dead man when the faint daylight came; and socould not tell whether or not he had used his knife. His body must havewashed over the rail with a sea, and we hoped the invisible killer hadgone, too. But we hoped too much. With courage born of this hope a manwent forward to lower the masthead lights, prodding his way with thepike pole. 

"We watched him closely, the pole in one hand, his knife in the other. But he went under at the fore rigging without even a yell, and the polewent with him, while we could see, even at the distance and through thedisturbed water, that his arms were close to his sides, and that hemade no movement, except for the quick darting to and fro. After a fewmoments, however, the pike pole floated to the surface, but the man'sbody, drained, no doubt, of its buoyant fluids, remained on the deck. 

"It was an hour later, with the pike pole for a feeler, before we daredapproach the body, hook on to it, and tow it aft. It resembled that ofthe first victim, a skeleton clothed with skin, with the same look ofhorror on the face. We buried it like the other, and held to the poop, still drenched by the downpour of rain, hammered by the seas, andchoked by ashes from the sky. 

"As the shower of ashes increased it became dark as twilight, andthough the three lights aloft burned out at about midday, I forbade aman to go forward to lower them, contenting myself with a turpentineflare lamp that I brought up from the lazaret, and filled, ready toshow if the lights of a craft came in view. Before the afternoon washalf gone it was dark as night, and down below, up to his waist inwater, the German professor was working away. 

"He came up at supper time, humming cheerfully to himself, andannounced that he had replaced his camera lens with the rock crystal, that the lantern, with its reflector and a blue spark in the focus, made an admirable instrument for throwing the invisible rays on thebeast, and that he was all ready, except that his plates, which he hadresensitized--with some phosphorescent substance that I forget the nameof, now--must have time to dry. And then, he needed some light to workby when the time came, he explained. 

"'Also another victim, ' I suggested bitterly; for he had not been ondeck when the last two men had died. 

"'I hope not, ' he said. 'When we can see, it may be possible to stirhim up by throwing things forward; then when he moves der water we cantake shots. '

"'Better devise some means of killing him, ' I answered. 'Shooting won'tdo, for water stops a bullet before it goes a foot into it. '

"'Der only way I can think of, ' he responded, 'is for der next man--youhear me all, you men--to stick your knife at the end of theblood--where it collects in a lump. Dere is der creature's stomach, anda vital spot. '

"'Remember this, boys, ' I laughed, thinking of the last poor devil, with his arms pinioned to his side. 'When you've lost enough blood tosee it in a lump, stab for it. '

"But my laugh was answered by a shriek. A man lashed with a turn ofrope around his waist to the stump of the mizzenmast, was writhing andheaving on his back, while he struck with his knife, apparently at hisown body. With my own knife in my hand I sprang toward him, and feltfor what had seized him. It was something cold, and hard, and leathery, close to his waist. 

"Carefully gauging my stroke, I lunged with the knife, but I hardlythink it entered the invisible fin, or tail, or paw of the monster; butit moved away from the screaming man, and the next moment I received ablow in the face that sent me aft six feet, flat on my back. Then cameunconsciousness. 

"When I recovered my senses the remnant of the crew were around me, butthe man was gone--dragged out of the bight of the rope that had heldhim against the force of breaking seas, and down to the flooded maindeck, to die like the others. It was too dark to see, or do anything;so, when I could speak I ordered all hands but one into the floodedcabin where, in the upper berths and on the top of the table, were afew dry spots. 

"I filled and lighted a lantern, and gave it to the man on watch withinstructions to hang it to the stump of the mizzen and to call hisrelief at the end of four hours. Then, with doors and windows closed, we went to sleep, or tried to go to sleep. I succeeded first, I think, for up to the last of consciousness I could hear the mutterings of themen; when I awakened, they were all asleep, and the cabin clock, highabove the water, told me that, though it was still dark, it was six inthe morning. 

"I went on deck; the lantern still burned at the stump of mizzenmastbut the lookout was gone. He had not lived long enough to be relieved, as I learned by going below and finding that no one had been called. 

"We were but six, now--one sailor and the bos'n, the cook and steward, the professor and myself. "

The old artist paused, while he refilled and lighted his pipe. Inoticed that the hand that held the match shook perceptibly, as thoughthe memories of that awful experience had affected his nerves. I knowthat the recital had affected mine; for I joined him in a smoke, myhands shaking also. 

"Why, " I asked, after a moment of silence, "if it was a deep-seacreature, did it not die from the lesser pressure at the surface?"

"Why do not men die on the mountaintops?" he answered. "Or up inballoons? The record is seven miles high, I think; but they lived. Theysuffered from cold, and from lack of oxygen--that is, no matter howfast, or deeply they breathed, they could not get enough. But the lackof pressure did not trouble them; the human body can adjust itself. 

"Conversely, however, an increase of pressure may be fatal. A mandragged down more than one hundred and fifty feet may be crushed; and asurface fish sent to the bottom of the sea may die from the pressure. It is simple; it is like the difference between a weight lifted from usand a weight added. "

"Did this thing kill any more men?" I asked. 

"All but the professor and myself, and it almost killed me. Look here. "

He removed his cravat and collar, pulled down his shirt, and exposedtwo livid scars about an inch in diameter, and two apart. 

"I lost all the blood I could spare through those two holes, " he said, as he readjusted his apparel; "but I saved enough to keep me alive. "

"Go on with the yarn, " I asked. "I promise you I will not sleepto-night. "

"Perhaps I will not sleep myself, " he answered, with a mournful smile. "Some things should be forgotten, but as I have told you this much Imay as well finish, and be done with it. 

"It was partly due to a sailor's love for tobacco, partly to our cold, drenched condition. A sailor will starve quietly, but go crazy ifdeprived of his smoke. This is so well known at sea that a skipper, whowill not hesitate to sail from port with rotten or insufficient foodfor his men, will not dare take a chance without a full supply oftobacco in the slop chest. 

"But our slop chest was under water, and the tobacco utterly useless. Idid not use it at the time, but I fished some out for the others. Itdid not do; it would not dry out to smoke, and the salt in it made itunfit to chew. But the bos'n had an upper bunk in the forward house, inwhich was a couple of pounds of navy plug, and he and the sailor talkedthis over until their craving for a smoke overcame their fear of death. 

"Of course, by this time, all discipline was ended, and all my commandsand entreaties went for nothing. They sharpened their knives, and, agreeing to go forward, one on the starboard rail, the other on theport, and each to come to the other's aid if called, they went up intothe darkness of ashes and rain. I opened my room window, whichoverlooked the main deck, but could see nothing. 

"Yet I could hear; I heard two screams for help, one after theother--one from the starboard side, the other from the port, and knewthat they were caught. I closed the window, for nothing could be done. What manner of thing it was that could grab two men so far apart nearlyat the same time was beyond all imagining. 

"I talked to the steward and cook, but found small comfort. The firstwas a Jap, the other a Chinaman, and they were the old-fashionedkind--what they could not see with their eyes, they could not believe. Both thought that all those men who had met death had either drowned ordied by falling. Neither understood--and, in fact, I did notmyself--the theories of Herr Smidt. He had stopped his cheerful hummingto himself now, and was very busy with his instruments. 

"'This thing, ' I said to him, 'must be able to see in the dark. Itcertainly could not have heard those two men, over the noise of thewind, sea, and rain. '

"'Why not?' he answered, as he puttered with his wires. 'Cats and owlscan see in the dark, und the accepted explanation is that by theirpower of enlarging der pupils they admit more light to the retina. Butthat explanation never satisfied me. You haf noticed, haf you not, thata cat's eyes shine in der dark, but only when der cat is looking atyou?--that is, when it looks elsewhere you do not see der shiny eyes. '

"'Yes, ' I answered, 'I have noticed that. '

"'A cat's eyes are searchlights, but they send forth a visible light, such as is generated by fireflies, und some fish. Und dere are fish inder upper tributaries of der Amazon which haf four eyes, der two upperof which are searchlights, der two lower of which are organs ofpercipience or vision. But visible light is not der only light. It ispossible that the creature out on deck generates the invisible light, and can see by it. '

"'But what does it all amount to?' I asked impatiently. 

"'I haf told you, ' he answered calmly. 'Der creature may live in anatmosphere of ultraviolet light, which I can generate mineself. Whenmine plates dry, und it clears off so I can see what I am doing, I mayget a picture of it. When we know what it is, we may find means ofkilling it. '

"'God grant that you succeed, ' I answered fervently. 'It has killedenough of us. '

"But, as I said, the thing killed all but the professor and myself. Andit came about through the other reason I mentioned--our cold, drenchedcondition. If there is anything an Oriental loves above his ancestors, it is his stomach; and the cold, canned food was palling upon us all. We had a little light through the downpour of ashes and rain aboutmid-day, and the steward and cook began talking about hot coffee. 

"We had the turpentine torch for heating water, and some coffee, highand dry on a shelf in the steward's storeroom, but not a pot, pan, orcooking utensil of any kind in the cabin. So these two poor heathen, against my expostulations--somewhat faint, I admit, for the thought ofhot coffee took away some of my common sense--went out on the deck andwaded forward, waist-deep in the water, muddy now, from the downfall ofashes. 

"I could see them as they entered the galley to get the coffeepot, but, though I stared from my window until the blackness closed down, I didnot see them come out. Nor did I hear even a squeal. The thing musthave been in the galley. 

"Night came on, and, with its coming, the wind and rain ceased, thoughthere was still a slight shower of ashes. But this ended towardmidnight, and I could see stars overhead and a clear horizon. Sleep, inmy nervous, overwrought condition, was impossible; but the professor, after the bright idea of using the turpentine torch to dry out hisplates, had gone to his fairly dry berth, after announcing hisreadiness to take snapshots about the deck in the morning. 

"But I roused him long before morning. I roused him when I saw throughmy window the masthead and two side lights of a steamer approachingfrom the starboard, still about a mile away. I had not dared to go upand rig that lantern at the mizzen stump; but now I nerved myself to goup with the torch, the professor following with his instruments. 

"'You cold-blooded crank, ' I said to him, as I waved the torch. 'Iadmire your devotion to science, but are you waiting for that thing toget me?'

"He did not answer, but rigged his apparatus on the top of the cabin. He had a Wimshurst machine--to generate a blue spark, you know--andthis he had attached to the big deck light, from which he had removedthe opaque glass. Then he had his camera, with its rock-crystal lens. 

"He trained both forward, and waited, while I waved the torch, standingnear the stump with a turn of rope around me for safety's sake in casethe thing seized me; and to this idea I added the foolish hope, arousedby the professor's theories, that the blinding light of the torch wouldfrighten the thing away from me as it does wild animals. 

"But in this last I was mistaken. No sooner was there an answeringblast of a steam whistle, indicating that the steamer had seen thetorch, than something cold, wet, leathery, and slimy slipped around myneck. I dropped the torch, and drew my knife, while I heard the whir ofthe static machine as the professor turned it. 

"'Use your knife, mine friend, ' he called. 'Use your knife, und reachfor any blood what you see. '

"I knew better than to call for help, and I had little chance to usethe knife. Still, I managed to keep my right hand, in which I held it, free, while that cold, leathery thing slipped farther around my neckand waist. I struck as I could, but could make no impression; and soonI felt another stricture around my legs, which brought me on my back. 

"Still another belt encircled me, and, though I had come up warmly cladin woolen shirts and monkey jacket, I felt these garments being tornaway from me. Then I was dragged forward, but the turn of rope hadslipped down toward my waist, and I was merely bent double. 

"And all the time that German was whirling his machine, and shouting tostrike for any blood I saw. But I saw none. I felt it going, however. Two spots on my chest began to smart, then burn as though hot ironswere piercing me. Frantically I struck, right and left, sometimes atthe coils encircling me, again in the air. Then all became dark. 

 * * * * *

"I awakened in a stateroom berth, too weak to lift my hands, with thetaste of brandy in my mouth and the professor standing over me with abottle in his hand. 

"'Ach, it is well, ' he said. 'You will recover. You haf merely lostblood, but you did the right thing. You struck with your knife at theblood, and you killed the creature. I was right. Heart, brain, und allvital parts were in der stomach. '

"'Where are we now?' I asked, for I did not recognize the room. 

"'On board der steamer. When you got on your feet und staggered aft, Iknew you had killed him, and gave you my assistance. But you faintedaway. Then we were taken off. Und I haf two or three beautifulnegatives, which I am printing. They will be a glorious contribution toder scientific world. '

"I was glad that I was alive, yet not alive enough to ask any morequestions. But next day he showed me the photographs he had printed. "

"In Heaven's name, what was it?" I asked excitedly, as the old artistpaused to empty and refill his pipe. 

"Nothing but a giant squid, or octopus. Except that it was bigger thanany ever seen before, and invisible to the eye, of course. Did you everread Hugo's terrible story of Gilliat's fight with a squid?"

I had, and nodded. 

"Hugo's imagination could not give him a creature--no matter howformidable--larger than one of four feet stretch. This one had threetentacles around me, two others gripped the port and starboardpin-rails, and three were gripping the stump of the mainmast. It had areach of forty feet, I should think, comparing it with the beam of thecraft. 

"But there was one part of each picture, ill defined and missing. Myknife and right hand were not shown. They were buried in a dark lump, which could be nothing but the blood from my veins. Unconscious, butstill struggling, I had struck into the soft body of the monster, andstruck true. "

NOAH'S ARK

Sam Rogers told me the story that follows, as we sat in the coils ofthe foremain and topsail braces--easy chairs aboard ship--and, sheltered from the blast of wind and spume by the high-weather rail, killed time in the night-watch by yarn-spinning. 

For neither of us had a wheel or lookout that night; and as he and Iwere the only Americans in the forward end of the ship, we naturallysought each other for communion and counsel--he, a tall, straight, andslim man of fifty, an ex-man-of-war's man; I, a boy, beginning thebattle of life. 

Sam was an inveterate reader; and, while his diction embraced a choicestock of profanity, which he used when aroused, it also expresseditself in the choicest of English, his sentences full of commas, semicolons, and periods. He reeled off his stories as though readingfrom a book. 

I had mentioned my boyish terror of bears, wolves, and other bugaboosof childhood, and Sam responded with his yarn. Here it is, just as hetold it:

"She was a menagerie ship--Noah's Arks, as we called them. One of thesecraft that sail out to the Orient in ballast; and, stopping at AnjerPoint for monkeys; Calcutta, Bombay, and Rangoon for elephants, tigers, lions, and cobras; Cape Town for orang-utans and African snakes, andover at Montevideo and Rio for wild hogs, pythons, boa-constrictors, porcupines, and other South American jungle denizens. 

"I don't know just where this craft had been to get the assorted cargothat I saw when I shipped for the run from Rio to New York; but I founda mess of trouble in that hold that made me think a lot, and a limitedskipper and mates that made me worry a lot. For they had stowed a madelephant under the fore-hatch; and this gentleman kept all hands awakewhen he liked, snorting and trumpeting, with no regard for eight bellsor the watch below. 

"There were Hindoo keepers aboard, but these fellows are useless incold weather; they shrivel up and move slowly, paralyzed by the cold. We got the cold up in the north latitudes, just above the trades; andit was about this time that the trouble began. 

"We had the ordinary mixed crew of a Yankee ship--only, this craft wasa bark; and we had the usual bull-headed and ignorant Yankee skipperand mates; men with no understanding of human or brute nature; men whowould rather hit you than listen to your proposition of peace. They hitus all, and got us into a condition of mind that discounted that of theelephant under the hatch. 

"Besides that elephant there were stowed in that hold cages containingwolves, hyenas, wild hogs, wild asses, monkeys, porcupines, and zebras. There were three or four cages full of poisonous snakes, one variety ofwhich I recognized, the curse of India--the hooded cobra. Then therewas a big python, picked up at Rio, and a boa-constrictor, taken aboardat one of the Pacific islands. 

"There was a huge Nubian lion; a big, striped Bengal tiger; ahippopotamus, and a rhinoceros, to complete the list. I tell you, itmade me creepy to go down among them, as we had to on occasions, towash down. 

"The elephant was moored to a stanchion by a short length of chainshackled around his hind leg, but it gave him a radius of action equalto his length and that of his hind leg and trunk. This precluded ourusing the fore-hatch to reach the hold, so we used the main-hatch; and, as there was daily use of it, this hatch was fitted with steps, andalways kept open, even in bad weather. 

"The immediate cause of the trouble was the carrying away of theforetop-gallant-yard, due to rotten halyards, and braces and lifts, when we were scudding before a gale off Hatteras. The yard came down onthe whirl, but when it hit the deck it hit like a pile-driver--astraight, perpendicular blow--directly over the partners that held theupper end of the stanchion to which that crazy elephant was moored. 

"It weakened it. We heard the big brute's protest, and then we heardthe crash as he carried away the stanchion. 

"Then we heard other noises as he raced aft among the cages--the madsquealing of the elephant, the growling and roaring of the lion and thetiger, the barking of the wolves and hyenas, the gruntings of the wildhogs, the heehaws of the wild asses and zebras, and the terrible, mumbling snorts of the hippopotamus and rhinoceros, as their cages wereupset and destroyed. 

"That mad elephant smashed them all, as we learned when the wholebunch, according to their acceptance of the situation, appeared ondeck, growling or whining, looking for something to do or to kill. Allhands were up, and we all took to the rigging, even the skipper andmates and the man at the wheel. 

"The ship broached to, and away went the upper spars and yards. Thecanvas slatted and thrashed and, one by one, the sails went to ribbonsand rags; but we could not help it. Down on deck were a big yellow lionand striped tiger wandering round, swishing their tails to starboardand port, looking for trouble. 

"Also a python and a boa-constrictor, a half-dozen wolves from theRussian plateaus, the zebras and wild asses, the hyenas, with theirugly faces; the porcupines, and some of the small venomous snakes. Wecould see them as they climbed up the steps of the main-hatch. 

"Even the rhinoceros and the hippopotamus came up; but, when the madelephant tried, the steps broke under his weight, and he remainedbelow. Still, we had a problem. 

"There wasn't a gun among us, and to go down and face those beasts withhandspikes was out of the question. 

"I was in the mizzen crosstrees with the skipper, the second mate, thehelmsman, and a couple of Sou'wegians who had been working aft. In themaintop were the first mate and three or four of the crew, and in theforetop were the rest, all bunched together and waiting forinstructions. 

"The skipper gave them. 

"'Go down out o' that, ' he yelled, 'and drive them down the hatch!'

"But not a man moved. Who would? He told me to go over and lash thewheel amidships, and I declined, as politely as I could. The wheel wasspinning back and forth, the ship rolling in the trough, and the upperspars, hanging by their gear, slatting back and forth as the shiprolled. 

"Down on deck were those murderous wild beasts, nosing round, and onlywaiting for the chance of getting together. I told this to the skipper. 

"'Right, ' he said. 'Perhaps they'll kill each other. '

"This seemed possible a few minutes later, when the tiger and the lionmet face to face. They glared and growled and spit, just like two hugetomcats, then they sailed into each other. 

"It was a lively scrap. They fenced and dodged and nipped as theycould, but their motions were too swift to give either a good chance ata bite. They were in the air half the time, on their backs the otherhalf, and it seemed an even fight until the tiger, in one of hisplunges, bumped into the python, who had been squirming around thedeck. 

"Now, a python is not poisonous; but, nevertheless, he has a stronggrip of jaw. He closed his jaws on the tiger's nose, and then began afunny sight. The big, striped brute could not shake him off; but hebacked away, snarling and screaming with rage and pain, forward roundthe house, and aft on the other side to the space abaft the main-hatch, the snake writhing like a whip-lash, and the tiger never making aneffort to use his forepaws. 

"It seemed as though hereditary fear had seized him, for with a fewdigs and blows he could have clawed him off. This fight ended by thewrithing python getting too close to the boa-constrictor, who happenedto be nosing his way across the deck amidships. In the twinkling of aneye, the boa wrapped himself around the python, and the tiger got away. 

"Then, while the two big snakes thrashed around the deck, Mr. Bengalslunk away like a cat scared by a dog--his tail between his legs, andthe fur on his back raised up so that it looked like that of arazor-backed hog. 

"He went forward of the house to think it over, and the two snakesfought it out, while the lion, thinking that he had won the fight, roared and growled his defiance to the rest. 

"He was too confident; the big rhinoceros looked him in the face, andthe trouble was resumed. 

"Mr. Lion charged; but the rhino lowered his head, caught him betweenthe forepaws with his horn, and sent him flying over his head, with abig gash in his body. That was enough for the lion, king of beaststhough he was. 

"Leaving a trail of blood, he slunk forward of the house, and theremust have met his enemy, the tiger. We could not see, but we couldhear, and we knew the fight between the two was resumed. 

"The snakes were thrashing it out all this time, but neither seemed toget the better of it. The boa's instincts were to crush, the python'sto swallow; but this swallowing pertained also to the boa, and it cameabout that the boa got about three inches of the python's tail into hismouth, and later the python got a grip on the boa's tail. 

"They held fast and ceased their struggles, their efforts now beingcentered in the desire to swallow each other. This seemed a goodsolution of our problem, and we wished them well. 

"Meanwhile, the hyenas and the Russian wolves got mixed up, and--talkabout your dog fights--you never saw anything like it. Those beastsfought and snarled and wrestled round the deck in a way to make youglad you were up aloft, out of harm's way. 

"It was a strange fight; both the hyenas and the wolves are cowards, each afraid of the other. And it was only when two wolves got at ahyena, or two hyenas got at a wolf that there was any real scrapping. But it came about that these two breeds destroyed each other. 

"One after the other crawled away to die from loss of blood. 

"The wild asses and zebras had got busy. Something about thearrangement of the zebra's stripes must have offended the artisticsensibilities of the wild asses, for pretty soon there was a livelykicking-match going on round the deck--a zebra against a donkey, kicking out, stern to stern, like prize-fighters sparring. It wasfunny, the way they looked round at each other while backing up to afresh reach. 

"Now, the tiger and the lion were having it out forward of the house;the wolves and the hyenas were scrapping, as they could, two againstone; the python and the cobra were trying to swallow each other, andthe asses and zebras were kicking the ribs out of each other. And, asif this were not enough to complete the circus, the hippo and the rhinomust get together. 

"Hippo made a plunging charge upon rhino and met that formidable tusk. But the hide of a hippo is something akin to armor-plate, and there wasno damage, though the big brute was lifted and turned over. He cameback, and in some manner got a grip on that big horn with his teeth;and from that on, their fight was simply a wrestling-match, neitherable to hurt the other. 

"And over their grunts and groanings, over the noise of the wolves andhyenas, the tiger and lion, and the slatting and bumping of the brokengear against the mast, and the sounds of sea and wind, rose supreme toour ears the blatant squealing and trumpeting of that mad elephant inthe 'tween-decks. 

"Added to this were the insane orders to us fellows of the skipper andthe two mates. They demanded that we go down and quell the disturbance. Well, we did not go down. We did other things. 

"It was I who suggested to the skipper the advisability of cutting awaythe connections that held those spars and sails aloft, so that theywould drop down and free the ship of the extra top-hamper. He was badlyrattled, but accepted my suggestion; so, at his orders, men went alofton all three masts, and soon the wreck came down, the mizzen top-hamperfalling overboard and the main diving down the open main-hatch. Wehoped it hit the elephant. 

"It was only chance, of course; but the foretop-gallantmast, with theroyal yard attached, did hit the tiger a smashing blow on the head thatended his troubles. We could see him, just clear of the forward house, with the lion at his throat. There wasn't much of it. The lion bit in;then, satisfied that he had done the job, he left the dead tiger andcame aft, still bleeding from the hole between the forelegs, andpounced upon rhino, who had made that hole. 

"It roused the rhino. With a mighty upheaval, he shook off the hippoand charged on the lion. But this fighter had grown wary; he dodged andjumped, growling and snarling the while, but apparently in no mood toagain risk the puncturing of his hide by that upright horn. 

"Meanwhile the stupid old hippo, who usually wanted nothing more thanhis grub and his bath, lumbered around looking for further trouble. Hefound it; he interfered between the wild asses and the zebras, and soonthe whole bunch, both sides, were bombarding him with their hind feet. He squealed and groaned and growled, but to no end. 

"They backed up to him and thumped him with their hoofs, as many ascould get near him. It was a beautiful exhibition of the law of thebrotherhood of man and the brotherhood of beast. Those equinepropagandists of the law of the survival of the fittest kicked thatpoor, peaceful old hippo into a condition of coma. 

"At last he lay down, with his head between his paws, and gave it up;then the kickers ceased kicking him and resumed their kicking of eachother. 

"By this time the python and the boa had gathered in about three feetof each other; the wolves and hyenas--two against one, understand--hadreduced their number by half, and the lion was still pretending tofight the rhino. 

"He still found it best to dodge that upright tusk, while his claws andteeth couldn't even scratch the rhino's impervious hide. 

"Then he got it from another quarter. The porcupines had climbed up, and one was nosing round the deck, attending to his own affairs--whichseemed to be nothing more than an intention to find out where hewas--when he got between these two. He suddenly balled himself up, turned round a couple of times, and then fired a volley of his quills. 

"They went, straight and true, right into that open hole between thelion's forelegs. He stood on his hindfeet for a moment, bellowing androaring, while he tried to brush them out; then he slunk forward againand hid behind the house. But we heard his occasional snarls of pain. 

"Meanwhile the porcupine had opened fire on the rhino, but did him noharm; and rhino was too big-minded to notice him. He lumbered round, looking for a match with something, but not finding it; even thekickers got out of his way, and the poor old hippo wandered forward tocommune with the lion. 

"Not finding an antagonist worthy of his horn, the rhino began nosingthe two mutual-minded snakes. He tossed them 'round, and they werehelpless to resist--only the rough handling seemed to induce increasedswallowing power. We could see their jaws working convulsively; andinch by inch, foot by foot, they rapidly disappeared from sight. 

"The rhino soon got tired and tackled the wolves and hyenas--what wasleft of them. They had reduced their number to two of each kind; butthis was too small to admit of two against one, so they were nowdodging each other, snarling bravely enough, but not fighting. 

"The rhino caught a hyena on his tusk, tossed him in air, caught him ashe fell, sent him flying again, and then stamped his life out. Thisseemed to settle the fate of the other hyena, for immediately the tworemaining wolves got at him. But rhino's next victim was a wolf, whichhe disposed of as quickly. 

"This left two cowards to fight for the supremacy; but the fight wastaken out of them. They slunk apart and did not meet again. 

"Now, here was the condition of things when a new factor intruded uponthe problem: the lion was nursing his hurts, forward of the house, outof sight; the hippo had gone to sleep from sheer weariness and disgust;the last wolf and hyena were prowling round, avoiding each other; thepython and the boa had swallowed two-thirds of each other's length; therhino was wandering round, looking for a scrap; the kicking zebras andwild asses had grown tired and called it a draw, and the porcupines, three or four of them, had finished their inspection of theirenvironment and had snuggled down in various places to awaitdevelopments. 

"The new factor was a green sea that lifted aboard amidships andflooded the waist of the ship. Of course, the quick movers of the lotgot forward or aft, out of the way of the water surging back and forthacross the deck; but the poor porcupines were drowned before the waterran out the scuppers. And when it had gone out, we saw what we had notseen before--the small, poisonous cobras. 

"They had come up, but had kept out of sight until that sea washed themround; then, as the water shallowed on the deck, they made for themasts or the rigging and began to climb. It's hard to drown a snake, you know. 

"There were at least two dozen of the reptiles, and it looked bad forus fellows aloft. Did you ever see a snake climb a rope? He goes up ina sort of wriggling spiral, wrapped loosely round it, but shifting hisdifferent sections up for a fresh grip. The other fellows climbed tothe topmast-crosstrees and looked down; but the snakes stopped at theeyes of the rigging, or the tops, and rested. 

"Then came a second new factor in our problem: a sea came aboard fromthe other side and washed about; another with the next roll, and stillanother. The rolls were long and heavy, and I, who had once been on asinking ship, sensed the reason. 

"'We're sinking, captain, ' I said. 'That main-topgallantmast going downthat hatch has punched a hole or started a butt. '

"'Maybe you're right, ' he exclaimed. 'What can we do?'

"That was too hard a question at the time for a skipper to ask of aforemast-hand, so I said nothing, but did a lot of thinking. Theflywheel-pump was amidships at the main fife-rail. We could not go downto it without danger from the wounded lion, the rhino, and possibly thewolf, though, with these out of the way, we might dodge or kill thecobras and fight off the hyena. 

"As it was, we were caught. I suggested to the skipper that he go downthe mizzentopmast-backstay, dart into his cabin, and get his rifle. Then he could pot the brutes from the forward windows. But he declinedand forbade me going. I had no business in his cabin. 

"I saw that he had lost his nerve. Now, when a skipper loses his nerve, he loses his rights; so I didn't hesitate to sing out to the mate inthe main-topmast-crosstrees to clear away downhaul-blocks, quarter-blocks, or anything handy and heavy, and try and drop them onthe lion and the rhino, the two most dangerous of the bunch. He seemedto be much in the same condition as the skipper, for he answered andpassed the word forward to the fellows on the fore. 

"In a few minutes things began raining down onto the deck--blocks, bulls'-eyes, and sea-boots. The bombardment raised a commotion, thoughnone of the brutes was hit. 

"Yet the sick and sore lion responded to the extent of bounding aft andmounting the poop. Here he came within range of us fellows up themizzen, and I had the disconnected mizzen-staysail halyard-block in myhand ready for him. He gained the space abaft the house near the wheeland stood still, lashing his tail and nosing the air as though hesmelled us up aloft. 

"He was only about forty feet down; and when young I had been a goodball-player. I leaned over and let that block go with all my strength. It wasn't the ordinary shell-block, but a solid carving of _lignum-vitæ_;and it fetched that lion a smash on the head that must have cracked hisskull, for he sank down, then got up and wabbled, rather than walked, forward along the alley to the poop-steps. 

"There he blindly fell off the poop; and the rhino, whom he had dodgedon the run aft, was ready for him. It wasn't a fight. The lion wasdying, and the rhino simply hastened the job, goring him relentlesslyuntil the bleeding carcass lay still. 

"Then the rhino, flushed with victory, went for the nearest brute, awild ass, and soon he had the whole of them--asses and zebras--kickingthe stomach out of him, or into him, perhaps, by the way he bellowed. 

"It was funny, in a way, for they were all too quick for him; theycould dodge that plunging beast with his murderous horn, and turn for akick before he got by. 

"But there was nothing funny about that water in the hold, nor in theprospective job of stopping the leak, pumping her out, and bending newcanvas, in case we could get that rhinoceros out of the way. He was theonly thing we feared now, for the rest were not really dangerous unlessyou got too close. 

"We knew the wolf and the hyena would run from a man with a handspike, and the zebras and asses would run from a man without one. To makematters worse, darkness closed down. So, lashing ourselves to thecrosstrees, we slept more or less sweetly until daylight. 

"When we took stock of things, we knew that all was up with that bark. Her plank-sheer amidships was awash, and the water rolling in a greenbody from starboard to port and back again. 

"The crazy elephant stood under the hatch, squealing and trumpeting infright. He must have smashed the monkeys' cages during the night, forthe rigging was dotted with chimpanzees, orangs, and the small fellows. The hyena and the wolf had gained the forecastle-deck, and stood, sideby side, looking aft, with no thought of quarreling in this emergency. 

"The sleepy old hippo was lumbering round in the flooded waist asthough he enjoyed his salt-water bath; and the rhino was forward on themain deck, looking at the water as it washed up to him and receded. Amidships was a thick, black ring of about two feet diameter, slidinground in the wash. 

"It was the two big snakes, each a sheath for the other, but each deadas a door-nail; either they had died from the strain, or the water haddrowned them. The zebras and wild asses were also forward, but mostlyout of sight behind the house. Not a cobra could be seen, however, andthe skipper displayed sudden energy. 

"'Something must be done, ' he said vehemently. 'You men stay here whileI make the attempt to get to the top of the forward house. If I canmake it without trouble, the rest of you can follow. We must clear awaythe boats, for there is no saving this ship. '

"So saying, he gripped the mizzen-stay and slid down it to where itended at a band on the main-mast just above the fife-rail. From therehe dropped to the deck and made a bee-line for the starboard side ofthe house to avoid the rhino, who was forward on the port side. 

"But the rhino saw him coming down the stay and lumbered aft into thewashing-water to investigate, rounding the port corner of the housejust as the skipper reached the starboard. From there he charged; andyou cannot imagine the velocity of a rhino's charge. It is like that ofa locomotive. The skipper scrambled on top of a water-tank alongsidethe house just in time to escape that tusk, and from there he got tothe top, where he sat down to recover himself. 

"He was a badly scared man. The rhino grunted and snorted at him andtried to climb the tank, but failed to get a grip on the smooth-paintedstaves. So he stood guard abaft the house, looking up. 

"There were two other roads to the deck--the port and starboard mizzenrigging, I still had in mind that rifle of the skipper's, and as thesecond mate, a young fellow just out of the forecastle, made noobjections, I slid down the after-swifter of the port rigging and gotinto the cabin before the skipper or the rhino noticed me. 

"I found the cabin flooded, and waded waist-deep to the skipper's room, where I found his Winchester hanging to the bulkhead. Making sure thatthe magazine was full, I scrambled to the forward companion, wherethere was a window that gave me a good view of the deck. The skipperwas calling the men on the main to come down by the maintopmast stay tothe top of the house, and to those on the fore to come down by thebackstays to the rail, and then to jump to the water-tanks; and the menwere coming down, one by one, even though the rigging swarmed with bigmonkeys and the corners and hollow spots possibly held poisonoussnakes. 

"A yell from the mizzen called my attention to one of these, a bigfellow of four feet in length whom the skipper had frightened out ofhis hiding-place on the fife-rail, and he was climbing the mizzen-stay. He rested about six feet up, but completely blocked this path to thedeck for the men in the mizzen. However, when I had cleared the deck ofthe rhino, they could come down my way. I cocked the gun, took carefulaim at the big brute's left eye, and let go. 

"I missed the eye, but attracted his attention, and he came chargingaft through the water. I ducked, knowing that he couldn't climb theflimsy steps to the short length of poop forward of the house withoutbreaking them down with his weight, and, after a moment, peeped out. 

"He was just turning to go forward, and, as I knew that a Winchesterbullet wouldn't puncture his hide, I saved my shots. 

"Meanwhile, all hands but the boys in the mizzen-crosstrees had gainedthe forward house and were clearing away the two boats, lashed in theirchocks, right side up--one to starboard, the other to port. I could seethe work going on--saw them smash the skylight over the galley for aman to go down to pass up grub, and saw a man dive down. 

"Then I saw another fellow take a beaker from the starboard boat, and, watching his chance when the rhino wasn't looking, drop over and intothe starboard forecastle, to fill it from the water-barrel. He passedit up and also the bread-barge. There was some of the cabin stores inthe galley, and these they secured easily through the skylight; but Inoticed they packed it all in the starboard-boat, though they hadcleared away the other. 

"I knew I had just fifteen shots in that rifle; but I hadn't looked forfurther ammunition, and I thought that fifteen would finish the rhino, somehow; so, when the boys above shinned down and joined me, Ineglected to ask them to hunt for more, but just peppered away when Ithought I saw a good chance, but never hit the one vulnerable spot. 

"The second mate wanted to try it, but I wouldn't resign the gun tohim. In extreme emergencies, you know, an officer loses hissuperiority; he becomes a mere man, like the rest. Every time I tickledthe brute with a bullet he would come charging aft, but never stoppedstill when within easy range. Not seeing anyone, he would wheel and goback to his duty at the forward house. To tell the truth, I was alittle nervous lest he should be able to mount the poop and get at us. 

"The old hippo was happy, swimming and snorting round in the water; andthe rhino seemed to have forgotten his grudge, busying himself with hisreal enemies, human beings. There were about sixteen of these on theforward house, and I noticed that they had ceased the work of stockingthe boat, and judged that there was no more grub forward. 

"'I say, cap'n, ' I called out, 'put some grub and water in the otherboat. One boat won't hold us all. '

"'You go to the dickens!' he answered. 'What are you doing in my cabin?Didn't I tell you to keep out of it?'

"'Go yourself!' I yelled. Then I said to the men with me: 'Raid thesteward's storeroom and fill your pockets with what you can find. Packthe inside of your shirts. '

"They could find nothing eatable except soda biscuits, and they cleanedout the locker. But there was no water aft. 

"Meanwhile the bark was getting lower and lower, and the rhino, toescape the wash, had drifted farther forward. I had wasted twelvebullets by this time, and had but three left. It was best, of course, to kill him before the bark foundered, so that we could get into thatport boat and induce the rest to pass over some grub and water. Butthis was not to be. 

"I killed him, all right, but only after we had rushed out at the deathflurry of the old craft, floundered forward, seizing handspikes fromthe racks on the way, and gained the vicinity of the house. Here thatmurder-minded rhino met us, and I jammed the muzzle into one eye. 

"The bullet touched some part of his brain, for he sagged down and grewquiet. And while we mounted the house, the asses and zebras werehee-hawing, the wolf was barking, and the mad elephant, waving histrunk up through the hatch, was trumpeting like a high-pressureexhaust. 

"We were just in time. The others had got into the starboard boat, andwe bundled into the port. There was no time for a decent launching overthe rail, but there was time to sing out for grub and water. Theskipper and mate consigned us to the infernal regions. 

"'There's not enough to go round, ' he declared. 'Take your chance. It'sbetter that part should starve than all. '

"I still had the gun, and had there been time I could have coercedthem; but there was no time. In a minute the water had reached the topof the house. 

"Then, as the boats floated in the creamy turmoil, we pushed with theoars, and, though half swamped, managed to clear the fore-braces asthey went under. There was a mighty roaring of water, and a mightysuction, but the two boats floated, though half full. 

"Then we saw that blooming old hippo rise out of the depths and headfor us. We shipped the oars and pulled like mad, but we'd gone aquarter of a mile through that heavy sea before we dropped him. 

"We couldn't have helped him; he'd have swamped us in a jiffy if he'dgot his nose and forepaws over the gunwale. We chewed dry soda biscuitsfor three days, and were then picked up. "

"But the others, Sam?" I asked. "Were they picked up?"

"No, " answered Sam with a perceptible quaver in his voice. "They werenot. The wolf, the zebras, and the asses could swim, and so could themonkeys, and snakes, after a fashion. 

"I don't know what trouble they may or may not have had with these. What I did see, though, as I pulled stroke oar in the race with thehippo, was the big head of the elephant showing occasionally as we rodeover the crest of a wave. 

"He was waving his trunk in the air, and making for the other boat. They were pulling as hard as we were, but to less avail. They wereoverladen with men and grub. Each lift of a sea showed them nearertogether. 

"Then we sank into a hollow. 

"When we came up I saw nothing but that waving trunk. "

THE FINISHING TOUCH

He was born with a nature as simple and primitive as the physicalconditions surrounding him, and endowed with a body so frail anddelicate that he barely survived these conditions--which were of frost, and snow, and ice, with winter hurricanes straight from Greenland andsummer fogs fed by the Gulf Stream to breed pneumonia and kindreddiseases into stronger lungs than his. 

But he survived to reach the age of eighteen, a tall, flat-chested, weak-witted butt of the local school, who, while able to struggle alongwith the ordinary studies at the foot of the class, was yet so poorlyendowed with the mathematical sense that he could only master the firstfour rules of arithmetic. Fractions and decimals were unsolvablemysteries to him. His name was Quinbey--first name John, later Jack. 

He was of American birth, the only son of a fisherman, who had takenhis smack to an isolated village on the Nova Scotian coast. Here thefisherman did well, and before the boy was half grown owned the finestcottage in the village--which he bought cheap because it was perched onthe crest of the hill, exposed to every storm that blew, a nest thatnone but a sailor could live in. With increasing prosperity heinstalled a big base-burner, good for the anæmic boy, but bad forhimself. 

The boy rid himself of coughs and colds; but the father, changing fromthe chill and the wet of fishing to the warmth and ease of home life, contracted pneumonia and died, leaving the boy in possession of thehouse and the smack, but not enough ready money to last for a month. 

Young Quinbey closed up the house, took in a partner with money, andwent fishing for a season, at the end of which the partner--a shrewdbusiness man--owned the smack. 

The boy acquired a wonderful increase of health and strength, and aconsuming love for a pretty girl of the village, a trader's daughternamed Minnie, who repulsed him firmly and emphatically because of hispoverty--for the house and base-burner were not desirable assets--andbecause of his weak mental and physical equipment. 

But there is a school for weak mentality and physique--the Seven Seas. And to this school went John Quinbey, first, however, putting in oneseason on the Georges Bank, where, in a lucky craft, he made money. Richer than ever before in his life, he returned home, to try again forthe heart and hand of Minnie, but found her married to the minister, aman as weak, flat-chested, and anæmic as he himself had been. 

He reasoned crudely. He did not meet Minnie, but took stock and measureof the minister, a gentleman named Simpson; then, feeling his ownexpanding chest and enlarging muscles, decided that Minnie would soonbe a widow, and he a strong man with money; for he could work, and, having no vices, could save. So, for love of Minnie, he went back tosea, resolved to become a captain, resolved to save every cent heearned, and resolved to balk at no hardship that would lead him tosuccess. 

At Boston, he shipped before the mast as able seaman in a bigdeep-water ship. He was not an able seaman, nor did he become one onthis voyage; it required several; but each one marked a steady advancein muscular strength, mental activity, and bank account; and, at theend of the fifth, he signed as boatswain--an able man who knew hiswork. 

He was strong, broad-shouldered, and active; the slightly vacant lookin his face that had come from his boyhood incapacity had changed to afrank stare that demanded consideration and respect. He seldom asked aquestion twice now--once was usually enough. He had a fist that couldsmash the panels of a door, a voice that he could not modulate toconversational tones--so used was he to sending it against the wind. Hedid not use tobacco, nor did he drink, for these things cost money, andhe was thinking of Minnie, most precious of all things in the world. 

At the end of each voyage he visited home, deposited the money he hadbrought, and waited in the street just long enough for a sight ofMinnie, sweet and matronly, and for a sight of the minister, who washolding on to life with a remarkable tenacity. Then he would work hisway to Boston, and sign again. 

Soon he became a second mate, but never a first, nor a captain. Hislimitations in arithmetic prevented him from mastering navigation, anecessary acquirement in a first mate or a skipper, and he remained inthe position he had reached, close to the sailors, but not of them;sharing their hardships and hard work--for with every reefing orfurling match a second mate must go aloft with the men--standing watchwith them, washing down decks with them, getting drenched to the skinas often as they, and differing from them only in increase of pay, cabin food, and a dryer bed to sleep in. 

But the dryer bed preserved him from the rheumatism and pulmonarytroubles that kill all sailors who do not drown, the better foodpreserved his now iron physique, and the increased pay went into thebank at home. 

And so it continued until he was forty years old, when he went home tofind Minnie a widow with a grown-up son--a fat, weak-chinned, pale-faced parody on manhood, who never had done a day's work in hislife--a "mamma's boy, " who was destined for the ministry. 

The dark, seamy-faced man of storm and strength, of stress and strain, asked her again to be his wife. He asked her as he would have asked asailor to sign articles; and the frightened little woman accepted inabout the same spirit that would have influenced the sailor; but shemade one condition--that he would educate her son for the ministry. 

He agreed. Her husband had left her almost nothing, while Quinbey hadabout ten thousand dollars in the bank. From this he drew the expenseof a four years' course at Andover; and, taking the youth to thisfamous theological college, arranged for his stay there in such amanner as would insure his completing the course--that is, he paid tothe president for everything in advance, including, beside tuition andboard, a moderate amount of spending money, and traveling expense homeand back in vacation. 

Then, with Sammy Simpson off his mind for four years at least, Quinbeyreturned, and married the woman he loved, feeling that he had nowearned happiness and the right to remain on land--and smoke. 

But he was not born for happiness, and did not recognize it when itcame to him. He opened up his house on the hill, fired up thebase-burner, and the two sat around it for a month trying to assimilateeach other; but they could not. He knew nothing of women; she nothingof such men as him. He never smiled; and, when he joked, the joke waslost in the rumble and grumble of his voice. He caressed her with thegentleness of a grizzly fondling the hunter, and was nonplussed and setback when she cried out in pain. 

Afraid of him at first, she soon realized that he knew no better, andresponded with the weapons of woman. The man, inured to cold and painand fatigue, yet was sensitive as a child when it came to his feelings. When she learned this, she kept his nerves quivering with quiet smiles, soft and sarcastic little speeches, and deadening silences, the meaningof which did not strike him at the time because of his transparentfrankness and honesty. 

He became afraid of her; and she, following up her advantage, wheedledhim out of money for clothes, which, though he could not see the needof them, he cheerfully gave her. He loved her devotedly; and, though henever smiled, yet he never frowned, nor spoke a harsh word to her. 

But she thought him harsh, and, justified by the thought, continued themarital loot until she grew brave enough to demand a gold watch forSammy's birthday. 

This was not in his program, and he told her so. Then followed alecture on the duties and shortcomings of fathers, which lasted anhour, and left him shaking like a sick man, sprawled out in the bigchair by the fire, and smoking like a high-pressure tug. But she hadbrought him around, and he had arisen to go out to the town's onejeweler, when she lost all she had won. 

"Where are you going?" she asked sharply, as he put on his hat. 

"Going out, Minnie, " he said, in his jokeless voice, "to get somecatnip for you. "

He meant it good-humoredly; but it was taken otherwise. The jeweler hadno gold watches; but, after a two hours' search, he dug up awholesaler's catalogue, and, with this in his pocket, Quinbey returnedto have Minnie select a watch from it; but she, her trunks, and herbelongings were gone, while a note on the table apprised him that shewould live with no man who called her a cat. 

Troubled in mind, he followed her to the home of her parents, but hewas not admitted--nor given a chance to show her the catalogue. 

He slept on the problem, and in the morning resolved that a littleabsence would be good for her; so, as the season had opened, he packedhis bag and went out on a fishing trip with friends of his, expectingto be back in a month. It was eight years later when he returned. 

His adventures during those eight years can only be summarized. Thefishing schooner was cut down by a big ship out of Halifax bound aroundthe Horn; and Quinbey alone of her crew succeeded in springing to hermartingale-stay as the smaller craft went under. No one else was saved, though the ship hove to and put out boats to search. Then the ship wenton, and, as she met no inbound craft, Quinbey was forced to go withher. 

But she did not round Cape Horn. A strong current threw her onto thePatagonian coast near Cape Virgins in a dead calm, and a sudden gale ofwind and heavy sea ground her to pieces. 

Only John Quinbey was a swimmer of sufficient strength to reach thebeach, and here he lay, half dead, for a day, when he arose and struckinland, knowing that Punta Arenas was about a hundred and fifty milesalong the coast of the Magellan Strait, and hoping to reach it. 

He did not at once. The giant savages of this region caught him andmade him one of them, preventing his escape. He was accustomed tohardship, and lived their life, tormented only by the thought that themoney at home was deposited in his name, and that he had made noprovision whereby the foolish little wife could draw from the bank. 

But he still hoped to escape; and, as the tribe drifted inland, he wasallowed more liberty. He never abused it, waiting for a final dash, always returning from a jaunt in reasonable time, and earning theconfidence of his captors. 

When over seven years had passed, he found, in the foothills of theLatorre Mountains, a large, heavy lump of dark metal, which he scrapedwith his knife and recognized as gold. It was fully the size of a drawbucket, but of what value he could not determine, except that itrepresented a fortune. 

Strong man though he was, he could not carry it a hundred yards withoutresting, yet he carried it, not back to the tribe, but in asouthwesterly direction, toward Punta Arenas. When forced to return, hehid it, taking careful bearings, and rejoined his masters. He waited afew days before the next trip, then moved it a few miles farther on. 

In this way, exciting no suspicion, he shifted his find, step by step, until he had it on a well-defined trail that could lead nowhere but tothe lonely port he was making for. Then, after a few days' rest, hepacked a bundle of dried meat, took with him a native-made rope bywhich to drag the heavy nugget, and left the camp in the dark of night. 

He reached his treasure by daylight, and started along the trail. Hewas not pursued, and ten days later, half starved, half mad, hisshoulders bleeding from the chafe of the rope, and every bone in hisbody aching with the pain of fatigue, he dragged his burden onto arickety wharf at Punta Arenas where an eastbound steamer was coaling. Her captain was an honest man. He took Quinbey on board, took him toBoston, and helped him turn the nugget into cash--fifty thousanddollars. Then Quinbey went home. 

II

Quinbey had been right about the money in the bank. It was a tidy sumto retain on deposit, and the bank officials had heartlessly refused topay any of it out to Mrs. Quinbey. She did not attempt to draw untilher sulks left her, which occurred after the jeweler, intent upon thesale of a watch, had called upon her, and when the villagers hadinformed her that Quinbey had gone fishing. Then, disappointed, andsomewhat worried over the future, she returned to the house on thehill, and, as it was still cold, lit up the big base-burner from thescanty stock of coal. 

As the weeks grew into months and the fishing schooner did not return, she did not, like the rest of the villagers, give her husband up aslost--rather, she believed him alive, hoped for his return, and revisedher opinion of him. 

Soon--yet long before the grocer, the butcher, and the coal man hadrefused further credit--she realized that she loved the crude man shehad known but a month, but who had loved her for twenty years; and, with tears streaming down her face, she prayed for his safety andreturn with more fervency than for the beloved son at Andover. Thisperson wrote filial letters home, assuring her of protection andsupport when he returned; but they brought her small comfort, for thetime was at hand when she must pay cash or go without the necessitiesof life. 

Then Sammy came home on his first vacation, and, learning of the moneyin the bank, used his prestige and address to such advantage that hepersuaded the local authorities to declare Quinbey legally dead--aneasy matter on that coast of many wrecks. 

Righteously indignant at the selfishness of the bank officials, heinduced his mother to withdraw the money--shrunk to eight thousanddollars--from the bank, and allow him to take it to Boston, where, in alarger and safer bank, it would draw interest, and on which she couldwrite checks in payment of her bills. 

She consented, and Sammy departed with the money. But at Boston, beforereaching the bank, he traversed the highways and the byways of the bigcity, imbibed certain and sundry liquids known to him only by name, loved his fellow men, and met fellow men of like state of mind, who, seeing a stranger, took him in. 

He was stripped to empty pockets, spent a night in a cell, and only bythe help of another clergyman was he shipped back to Andover with aletter to the president. 

From here he wrote to his mother a garbled account of his adventures;and, as the president of the college mercifully forbore writing her thetruth, the poor woman merely wept a little, prayed a little, and tookup her burden. 

Her parents were old and indigent, unable to more than house her for afew days at a time. As minister's wife, she had made no friends thatwould help her now in a way befitting her position. As for herself, with only a village education, she could not even teach, even thoughable to found a school. 

But every mother and daughter, sister and grand-ma'am in the villagewas willing to give her work by the day for the mere pleasure ofgloating; and at this work she went bravely. 

The sneers and insults she received soon limited her journeyings fromhome, and she finally became the village wash-woman. The kitchen of thehouse was turned into a laundry, and the big base-burner allowed togrow cold; for she could not afford two fires. 

In her laundry she worked, and in wintertime slept, and only onSaturdays was she seen on the street, when, with deepening lines in herface and a growing gray tinge to her hair, she struggled back and forthwith her basket of clothes. But she earned her living, and lookedforward hopefully to the return of her husband and assuredly to thereturn of her son, who would care for her. 

Sammy only came home on the first vacation; the next three he spent atthe homes of classmates. But at last the four years' course was ended, and, with nowhere else to go, he appeared, an ordained minister of theGospel, but unattached. 

The Reverend Samuel Simpson, as we must know him now, was twenty-fouryears old, as pale as ever, fatter than ever, with a chin that, becauseof the fat, seemed to recede still farther into his neck. His motherrejoiced over him, was proud of him, and believed that her troubleswere now ended. 

The villagers welcomed him, and the gray old pastor of the church oncepresided over by his father invited him to preach. He did so, delivering his one sermon; but the delivery and the sermon were not ofa character that would inspire the congregation to empty the pulpit forhim, so the young preacher went home to wait, as Quinbey had waited, for that pulpit to become vacant by death. 

But he deplored the coldness of the house, and ordered coal on creditfor the base-burner; also he deplored the hard labor of his mother, assured her that the necessity for it would soon end, but did nothinghimself toward this end; for, in truth, there was nothing he could dobut preach; and the gray old pastor seemed as tenacious of life as hisown father had been. 

The mother was content, however, except for the always present, butlessening, hope that her husband would return, and happy in the companyof her educated and accomplished son. And so, as bravely as ever, shecarried her burden through the streets, not only on Saturdays now, buton Wednesdays, because, with another mouth to feed, she must of needswash more clothes. 

And so the time went on, the Reverend Samuel Simpson growing seedier ofraiment and fatter of body, enduring patiently the sneers and sarcasmsof the indignant men of the village, while the mother's face grewthinner, her body weaker, and her once blond hair so gray that shelooked ten years beyond her age. Then, four years after the son'sreturn, the breaking point came. With the front of her garmentsdripping wet, she stood erect from her tub, looked at him where he satnear the kitchen fire--the base-burner had long been cold--and said:

"Sammy, you must go to work. I can do no more. It is killing me. "

"But what can I do, mother dear?" he answered kindly. 

"I do not know, " she said weariedly. "Something, maybe, that will help. You are educated. You might write for the Boston papers, or themagazines. Or you might find a pulpit somewhere else, and send me somemoney once in a while. "

"What, and leave you alone, mother? Not for the world would I desertyou. You are my mother, and have cared for me. But I have thought ofwriting. I have been thinking for years of a literary career, only Ihave not been able to decide which branch of literature I am bestfitted for. "

"Well, Sammy, " said the mother, as she bent over her tub, "I cannotdecide for you; but something must be done. "

"And I will do it, mother, " he shouted loudly--so loudly that neitherheard the opening of the front door, nor the sound of heavy footstepscoming toward the kitchen. 

Then a big, dark-faced man, with hair as gray as her own, seized heraround the waist, lifted her into his arms, and rained kisses on herface and lips while she screamed, then, as she recognized him, faintedaway. Still holding her, he lifted his foot, exerted a slight effort ofstrength, and pushed the tubful of suds and clothes off its base, upsetting it squarely over the head of the Reverend Samuel Simpson, whonearly choked before getting himself clear. 

"I've been hearing things about you down at the store, " said Quinbey, "and I'll 'tend to your case directly. "

Then he carried the limp little woman into the bedroom, stripped offher wet garments, and covered her warmly, while he kissed her back toconsciousness. 

"Oh, John, " she said, when she could speak, "I knew you'd come back, but, oh, the long waiting! I've been punished, John, punishedbitterly. "

"There'll be no more of it, Minnie, " he said. "I've come homerich--that is, rich for this town. Your work is ended. They told me atthe store about your son loafing on you all these years while you tookin washing. But how about the money in the bank? Couldn't you get it?"

"Oh, yes, John, " she answered simply. "But Sammy took it to Boston todeposit, and was robbed of it. "

"Um-hum-m-m, " grunted Quinbey. "The savings of twenty years at sea!"Briefly she recounted Sammy's story of the wrong done him; but he madeno comment beyond saying that he would look into it. 

"He's got to go to work, " he added grimly. "I don't know what he can doexcept preach, and perhaps he can't do that. I'll write to Andover andget his record. But how about the house? It's cold. Out of coal?"

"We've got very little, John. We couldn't afford two fires. "

Quinbey left her, and found his stepson in his room, changing his wetclothing for dry. 

"Take this money, " he said, handing him a bill, "and go down to thecoal dock. Order a ton up here at once. "

"I will, sir, " answered Sammy, with dignity, "when I've recoveredsomewhat from your extremely brutal treatment of me. I must be drybefore I go out on this cold day. "

But he went out, shirtless and coatless, at the end of Quinbey's arm;and, as it really was cold, he hurried on his errand, and returned. Before long the base-burner was roaring, and Quinbey was recounting hisadventures to his happy-faced wife; while Sammy, in the kitchen, finished up the wash. Later on he delivered it; but no more washing ofother folks' clothing was ever done in that house. 

Quinbey wrote to Andover, and in a few days received a reply, which heread to his wife. It was a true account of Sammy's mishap in Boston;and, while Quinbey grinned--he could not smile--the mother weptsilently, but asked no forgiveness for her wayward son. And when herummaged a bureau, and brought forth an old jeweler's catalogue, askingher to choose a watch for Sammy, she felt that it was granted; but shedid not yet know Quinbey. 

Sammy wore the watch proudly; and for the rest of the cold weather thethree sat about the base-burner, while the color came back to thelittle woman's face, and self-confidence to the shaken mind of Sammy. He actually began to like his rough stepfather; and only an outsidermight have guessed, by the somber light in Quinbey's dark eyes whenthey rested upon him, that he did not like his stepson. 

In the spring, as soon as the frost and snow were gone, Quinbeyemployed laborers to flatten the ground near his house to the extent ofa hundred feet by ten; then, with stakes, he laid out the plan of aship's deck. Next he contracted with spar makers, ship carpenters, andship chandlers for material and labor; and before June three masts wereerected, each with topmast, top-gallant, and royal mast, the standingrigging of which was set up to strong posts driven into the ground;then followed yards, canvas, and running gear, and soon a complete shipof small dimensions, but without a hull, adorned the crest of the hill. 

As Quinbey explained to the questioning villagers, he would go to seano more, but, having spent his life at sea, wanted a reminder--somethingto look at--a plaything. 

Sammy was an interested spectator of the work, and Quinbey was kind tohim, answering his questions, and even betraying some solicitude thathe should understand the rig of a ship, the names of the ropes andsails, and the manner of handling them. He even went so far as to hirea couple of sailors to climb aloft, to loose and furl canvas, again andagain, until Sammy understood. 

Then the cold weather came on, and the base-burner was lit; and withthe cold weather came the snow, and the icy sleet, and the hurricanegales from Greenland, striking the crest of that hill with a force thatthreatened to tear the dummy ship from the ground. And on particularlystormy nights, the villagers, snug in their warm beds, would waken fora moment at a sound louder than the gale--the sound of Quinbey's voice, which, in a calm, would carry a mile. And the voice would cry:

"All hands on deck to make sail. Out wi' you, you blasted lubber, andlay aloft. Up wi' you, and loose that mainsail, and, when you've got itloose, furl it. I'll show you how I earned that money. Up wi' you, 'fore I give you a rope's end. "

And sometimes, in the lulls, they could hear Sammy's shrieks of pain, and the thwack of the rope's end. 

THE ROCK

"I tell ye I saw it--wi' these eyes I saw it!"

"You think you seen it. "

"Now I quit. Ye talk like every mate or skipper or Consul I've toldthis to. Just the same, I never git to the end o' the third day out, either way, --I'm in a six-day boat, ye know--but what the nervousnessgits me, an' I'm no good for twelve hours, until I know we're past thespot. "

"A rock, you say, in the middle o' the Atlantic? Why isn't it known andcharted?"

"Because it's awash an' visible only at the fall o' the spring tides. "

"How is it that no one else saw it but you?"

"I was the only man aloft. She was a hemp-rigged old ballyhoo out o'Quebec, an' gear was chafin' through all the time. I was passin' a newseizin' on the collar o' the foretopmast stay, when I squinted aheadthrough the fog, and there it was black an' shiny, an' murderous, aboutforty feet long, I should judge, and five feet or so out o' water, right dead under the bow. I could see the lift o' the water where thecurrent pushed ag'in' it, and the swirl on t'other side, showin' it wasno derelict, bottom up. No, it was a rock. 'Starboard!' I yells to thefelly at the wheel. 'Starboard! Hard up!' Well, the skipper was below, an' the second mate, who had the deck, was mixin' paint under thefo'c'sle; so the wheel went up an' the old wagon payed off 'fore thewind. Then I lost it myself in the fog, an', as I couldn't point outanything to the skipper when he come up, I was called down an' damnedfor a fool. But I saw it, just the same, a big rock halfway across, andsquarely between the lane routes!"

"How do you know that?"

"The skipper wasn't above givin' me the ship's position--forty-sevennorth; thirty-seven twenty west. That's between the lanes, an' I'll betthe _Narconic_ is at the base o' that rock, to say nothin' o' the_Pacific_, the _President_, and t'others. "

The wabbly little West Street horse car had reached the White Star dockby this and the two men stepped off. Steamship sailors, I knew. I hadnever seen them before, and have never seen them since; but theirconversation produced a marked impression upon me, and I could notshake off a feeling--not of itself a remembrance, however--that I hadheard something of the kind before. A submerged rock in mid-Atlantic. But it was incredible, and at last I put it from my mind as a "galleyyarn. "

But next morning it was back, in company with another galley yarn, oneI barely remembered as having heard ten years before from an oldConfederate man-o'-war'sman who had sailed with Semmes in the_Alabama_. The yarn pertained to the pursuit of a Northern merchantship, and I give only the conclusion. 

"We were gaining fast, " he had said, "and hoped to bring her to beforebreakfast; for at daylight she was but three miles or so ahead, everysail drawing and every detail of spar, canvas, and hull showing clearin the morning light. And then, while we looked at her, she quicklysettled under, not head first or stern first, as is usual, but on aneven keel. They had no time to start a brace or a halyard; there wasnot time for her to answer to her wheel, if it had been shifted. Shejust went down as though something had hooked onto her keel and draggedher under. I never learned her name; but she must have been bound outof New York or Boston, for some French port in the Channel. We pickedup one of her men, a Dago who couldn't tell her name, and only thismuch as to what happened. A ripping, crashing sound began forward andworked its way aft, ending at the stern, and we could only surmise thatsomething--a submerged derelict, perhaps--had scraped the bottom out ofher. "

Memory is treacherous. In a few days I had forgotten this yarn with theother, and might never have recalled it had I not ascended to an upperfloor in the lofty Flatiron Building, and looked out of a window at theloftier, but unfinished, tower of the Metropolitan Building across thepark. It was a damp, dismal day of fog; but at my elevation I could seeclear of it. I was above it, looking over an undulating sea of cloudbank from which the tower rose, massive and mighty, apparently floatingon end, like an immense spar buoy at the turn of the tide. The rest ofNew York lay hidden beneath that silent gray ocean of fog. 

Interesting as it was of itself, it was not the spectacle before methat gripped and held me, but an associated idea. As it was the firsttime I had ever seen a skyscraper lift itself above the clouds, so itnaturally reminded me of the first time I had seen a mountaintop abovethe clouds. This was Krakatoa Island, a conical mountain rising fromthe sea in the Straits of Sunda, but since submerged in the Javaearthquake. 

With this mental picture before me, my thoughts touched upon otherhappenings of that boyhood voyage--the long, tedious beat through thestraits against light head winds and a continuous head tide; theman-killing log windlass, round which we hove, and lightened, chain ofan eight-inch link; the natives, with their welcome fruit in exchangefor trinkets; and, lastly, the white-haired old pilot, who came forwardto visit me one evening on anchor watch. 

And then, like an inspired flash, there surged into my mind, not onlythe two galley yarns, but the story told by the pilot--a story of suchburning power and horror that, though forgotten for a generation, itspelled itself out, word for word, as I stared into the fog from thewindow, exactly as the old man had told it. 

He had heard from the skipper that I was from the same part of New YorkState as himself, and he had come forward for news of home. I couldgive him little. I knew no one that he knew; the small town that givehim birth was not far from my own, but was only a name to me. Still heremained to talk. My up-State accent pleased him, he said, and remindedhim of home, which he had not seen for forty years, and which he hardlyhoped to see. He was sixty-five; two shocks had come, and the thirdwould finish him. 

"But I'm an old, experienced man, my boy, " he said, "and I can give youmy life's wisdom in three short rules, easy to remember and easy tofollow. Stick to your skipper; leave liquor alone; and never, under anyprovocation, engage in mutiny. I broke every one of these, and hereI've been, for half a lifetime, an exile, afraid to go home. "

Not realizing how sorely I needed this wisdom, but keenly interested inmutiny, piracy, and such fancies of boyhood, I asked for light, and hegave it to me. 

"I won't tell you the name of the ship, " he said; "for you'll be a boyfor some time to come, and you might talk about it. Nor will I give youthe real names of the men engaged in that mutiny; for it is only fortyyears back, and there may be men alive yet who will be interested inthe fate of the ship; though none, I expect, who would care much abouther crew. But I'll tell you that her crew was the toughest gang I eversaw in a forecastle, and her skipper and mate the most inhuman brutes Iever saw aft. I was second mate, and, having won my berth in deepwater, thought I was something of a bucko; but I found my mastersthere. The ship, I may as well say, was one of the packets that tradedbetween New York and Liverpool, sometimes carrying passengers, but notalways. We had none this trip. 

"Before we were two days out from Sandy Hook I got a taste of theskipper's caliber. A man aloft--a big, red-headed fellow, gave me aninsolent answer from the cro'-jack yard, and I called him down. When hereached the deck I was ready, and sent him reeling over the break ofthe poop with one smash on the jaw. He was satisfied to go aloft againand answer civilly when spoken to; but the skipper, who had watched theperformance, was not. He called me over to the lee alley and faced me, his face fairly alive with rage and contempt. 

"'Say, you--you--you Sunday school teacher! Is that the way you expectto handle men in these packets? Hey?'

"'I didn't hit him hard, sir, ' I answered. 'I didn't hurt him. He'saloft now, at work. '

"'You didn't hurt him? No, I'll warrant you didn't! Why didn't youfollow him up, watch for his knife, and take it away from him? 'Fraidof him? Hey? How do you expect to get along wi' this kind of a crew ifyou're content with one smash? Follow it up, man! Follow up your firstblow with another, and another, till you're sure of him. '

"'Oh, I understand, Captain, ' I said. 'Well, sir, I'm not worrying overany further trouble with that fellow. He's had enough. '

"'Make sure of it. You'll get no sympathy from me if he wins out. '

"It seems that the way of deep water was not the way of the packets. Somewhat impressed by this, I waited until eight bells, when thered-head came down--his job was merely the passing of new ribbons inplace of old--and tackled him amidships, as he went forward. 

"'Well, ' I said. 'What do you think? The skipper says I didn't give youenough. Have you had enough, or do you want more?'

"He looked me squarely in the eyes, and his hand wandered toward hissheath knife in his belt. Mine wandered toward a pistol in my hippocket. 

"'I'm 'fore the mast, sir, ' he said; 'and as a man 'fore the mast--yes, of course I've had enough. But I've been aft, and I may be aft again. Then, too, you may be 'fore the mast. Well, sir, I know the law. '

"'Forecastle lawyer, are you?' I asked derisively. 

"'Yes, and more, ' he exploded. 'Your superior in seamanship, youblanked whitewashed son of a ship owner!'

"My fist shot out; but he dodged it, and ran forward. I sent a belayingpin after him, and it hit him on the shoulder; but I doubt that it hurthim. 

"In the next twenty-four hours four men came aft to the skipper formedical treatment from the medicine chest. Red-head had disabled them, in one way or another. One had a broken rib, the result of a punch; theskipper set it. Another had lost some teeth, and showed a few more thatwere loose. The skipper called upon the carpenter and his pliers toremove these, and sent the man forward. Another was carried aft, unconscious from a fist blow under the ear; and the skipper could onlylay him out on a cabin transom to wait until he came to. The last was acase of asthma. Red-head had planted his fist plumb upon his throat, and the resultant inflammation threatened to strangle the man. But theskipper gave him a porous plaster for his chest, and a big catharticpill by means of which the man came around. You know the Yankeeskipper's formula: break your leg or lose your mother--take a pill. 

"Well, the outcome of this was that the skipper held a conference ofhimself, the first mate, and myself. He stated the situation: a manforward was a menace to the tranquillity and the safety of the ship. Who would take him down?

"The first mate, with a look of patronizing pity at me, said to thecaptain, 'I'll do this, if nobody else can, ' again the look of pity. 'I'll show him who's who, and what, and which. '

"'Well, ' said the skipper, 'do so, or I'll be afraid of my officers. '

"I looked on while the mate called that troublesome malcontent downfrom aloft, where he had reported the paral seizing of the fore royalyard adrift without saying sir to Mr. Parker. I watched tranquilly, while the big, whiskered first mate, meeting the man as he dropped fromthe fore-rigging to the deck, received a threshing of fists and kicksthat laid him out. We carried him aft, while Red-head retired to theforecastle. And, as we nursed the mate back to self-respect, we heardthe profane vows of Red-head to clean us up, all of us. 

"The skipper was furious. 'Have I got to go forrard and lick thatfellow?' he said. 'Haven't I got a mate aft able to do his duty?'

"'Why not put him in irons, captain?' I asked. 'I knocked him off thepoop once, and made him run next time. That seems to be enough as faras I'm concerned. '

"The skipper glared at me. 'And do you think, ' he said sneeringly, 'that he ran because he was afraid of you? He's afraid of the irons andof the law. But that's just why we don't appeal to the irons and thelaw in these packets. It's a point of honor with us; and--yes, a matterof policy. We couldn't get crews after a time if we ironed and jailed'em for each offense. No, that man must be properly licked, and if youcan't do it, I'll have to do it myself. '

"'I can do it, ' I answered quietly, and went forward. 

"Mike--for that was the name he gave--was in my watch, and should haveremained on deck. I found him in the empty starboard forecastle andcalled him out. He came, with a bad look in his eyes. 

"'Put your knife on the water tank alongside my gun, ' I said, 'and comeaft where there's a clear space. We'll find out who runs this ship, youor the afterguard. '

"'That sounds fair, ' he said; 'but how about the after clap? This isnot my proposition. '

"'You mean darbies? There'll be none. The skipper wants you licked intoshape, so you'll be useful. Come on. '

"We laid our weapons on the tank as we passed it, and faced each otherabreast of the main hatch. The skipper looked on from the poop; thecarpenter and cook came out of their shops to witness; and of coursethe watch, working aloft, stopped work to look down on us. The sea wassmooth, the wind mild and fair, and the ship slid along with verylittle pitching or rolling; so it was a fair fight. 

"Mike was a game fighter; but I was just a little heavier, just alittle more skilled, and had just a little longer reach; so I soon hadhim going. I backed him completely round the hatch, and when I had himup to windward again, both his eyes were half closed and his nosebroken and bleeding. So far I had not been struck, and I decided now tofinish him. I put all my strength and the whole weight of my body intothat smash, aiming for the point of his chin; but he saw it coming andattempted to duck. My closed fist brought up with a crash on the top ofhis big bullet head; for he was slow and groggy, and didn't duck lowenough. However, it didn't hurt him, while the effect upon me was tobreak every small bone in my hand. It was like slugging a windlassbitt; for he leaned partly forward, and hardly budged under the blow. 

"I could not repress a slight grunt of pain, and I simply had to stop, and rub my sore hand with the other. He saw and heard; then he came forme, and the rest of the fight was the other way. I fought as I could, one-handed, for I couldn't even guard with my right; but it was no use. He soon had me going, and the last I remember of the fight was asickening smash under the ear. I don't remember hitting the deck; butwhen I came to my senses I was laid out in the weather scuppers, andthe skipper was down off the poop, talking to Mike. 

"'So, ' the skipper was saying, 'you are Red Macklin, are you? I'veheard of you. ' I also had heard of him; for Red Macklin's fame wasinternational. He was a bullying, murderous scoundrel who had perhapskilled more sailors than any other first mate on the western ocean, andwho, about five years previous, had foolishly shot his captain. To killa sailor is one thing, to shoot a skipper is another. 

"'Yes, sir, ' answered Mike respectfully. 'I've just finished my timefor that gun play on Captain Blaine, and am not likely to repeat it. But my prospects were done for, and I had to ship 'fore the mast. '

"'You're a navigator, of course. Bring your dunnage into the firstmate's room and take his place. Put his dunnage into the second mate'sroom, and make that duffer in the scuppers bundle his traps into theforecastle. I want no weaklings aft with me. '

"I scrambled to my feet at this; but--Well, there's no use detailingthe argument that followed. I had to go forward peaceably or lose myprospects, like Red Macklin. And I had chosen the western ocean tradebecause of what I thought my fitness for it, and because in these shorttrips a man can the more quickly attract the notice of an owner. And Iunderstood now why Macklin had run from me when he knew I had a gun;why he had licked his shipmates; and the reason of his studiedinsolence to Mr. Parker and myself. He knew the ways of the packets, and, while avoiding guns and irons, he sought to attract the skipper'sattention to his prowess. I thought it somewhat severe that Mr. Parker, who had put up no kind of a fight, should be kept aft instead of me, until I reflected that Mr. Parker, with two whole fists, might still begood for any man on board except Macklin; while I, with only one, couldn't lick anybody. It was merely the survival of the fittest, and Iwas not fit. 

"However, I drew comfort from the thought that when my hand got well Icould win back my berth in the same manner, and to this end applied atonce to the captain for bandages and splints from the medicine chest. He responded like a brother; but earned none of my gratitude, for Iconsidered the medicine chest as furnished out of the Marine Hospitaldues, which I had paid for years. 

"I had noticed that my pistol and Macklin's knife had disappeared fromthe water tank, and supposed that he, as the first act in his newposition, had confiscated them. So, as I had no use for a gun while'fore the mast, I put the matter from my mind. I meant to sing small, until my hand was well. 

"But what followed in that ship shows how little we can depend upon ourgood resolutions. I was still in the starboard watch, having takenMacklin's place forward, while he, as mate, had charge of the portwatch, and Mr. Parker as second, became my watch officer. So far therehad been no friction between Mr. Parker and myself; but now I found theman dead down on me, as though he blamed me for his licking and hischange of office. 

"One-handed, I was almost useless around decks, and could not steerexcept in the finest of weather; but this made no difference. I washounded, cursed, and struck, not only by Parker, but by the skipper andMacklin. Some kind of armed neutrality must have sprung up betweenMacklin and Parker with regard to me; but I could only ascribe theskipper's new personal attitude to a distrust of my philosophy, which, while impelling me to make the best of matters, may have seemed to himthe calm before the storm. I escaped Macklin's abuse, however, exceptin the dog watches, when all hands were on deck. 

"They damned, deviled, and degraded me, keeping me all night onlookout, and rousing me from sleep at any time of the day watch belowto climb aloft and loose a royal stop buntlines, or remove an Irishpennant--a loose rope yarn, you know--from any part of the rigging. Mynerves went back on me from loss of sleep and futile anger andbrooding; and once, when Macklin stripped off the sling I had rigged tohold my sore fist, and knocked me down for protesting, I saw red for amoment. 

"Even so, nothing might have happened--had not the crew been includedin the drill they were serving me. As an old hand in deep-water ships, I knew the absolute necessity of preserving discipline, and that thiscan be done only by occasionally knocking down a malcontent; but nosuch considerations demanded the wholesale clubbing with heavers andhandspikes which the men got from the trio. Belaying pins were notused--they were too small and light for the gentlemen. Macklin had fourdeadly enemies when he went aft, and soon every man forward had agrievance, and voiced it in muttered profanity that held many a threatof death. I fancy that it was my presence in the forecastle thatinspired all this ill treatment; no doubt I was regarded as a badexample, whose influence over the men must be offset by stern, repressive measures, but whom they would not remove because of theirdislike of the law. For the law could reach a skipper or mate, asMacklin well knew. 

"And the crew? Never was a wild, half-crazy herd of Liverpool Irishmenkept under control as that crowd was by a bad example. While aft I hadtreated them well, and they liked me for my scrap with Macklin; so, they listened while I counseled submission and avoidance of legalconsequences--which last was the only point I made. They feared neitherman, God, nor devil; but they did fear the law, and grew quiet when Italked of jail and the gallows. And this fear possibly accounted for myfinding my pistol--a newly invented Colt revolver--lying in my bunk, one morning when I came in from a long night's lookout to get mybreakfast. 

"'Who put this here?' I demanded. 'Who had my gun?'

"No one would acknowledge the gift; but the state of mind behind it wasgiven in the remark of one, 'Now ye've got it again, use it!'

"I tucked it under my mattress, resolved not to use it; but a littlelater put it into my trousers pocket. Fear of the law, forward and aft, began to yield to fear of death. Men openly sharpened their knives, andthe afterguard ostentatiously showed their pistols. Their pistols werenot so good as mine--they were double-barreled, muzzle-loadingderringers, with only two shots. 

"Things culminated on a moonlight night when we were charging alongbefore a quartering whole sail breeze, making, I should judge, abouteleven knots. I was on lookout, as usual, and keeping a good one Iknow, even though my eyes would half close at times from sheer need ofsleep. It was about seven bells of the first watch and for some reasonor other--perhaps the strong moonlight, which keeps some peopleawake--both the skipper and the first mate were on deck, and standingaft near the wheel, while Mr. Parker stood his watch on the poopforward of the after house. The men walked up and down between the foreand main rigging. 

"A faint light showed up ahead and to leeward. I opened my eyes wide tomake sure, and saw the faint shadowy outlines of hull and canvas--aship close hauled across our bows. Then I sang out:

"'Light ho! Ship on the port tack two points off the starboard bow, sir!'

"'Light ho, is it?' bellowed the skipper. 'Put another man on lookoutand send that scow bunker aft here, Mr. Parker!'

"A man came and relieved me. Wondering what was up now, I went aft, andthe skipper and two mates met me at the break of the poop. 

"'You get up there to the weather maintopsail yard arm, you ----blind-eyed farmer, ' snarled the skipper, 'and keep your lookout there!D'ye hear? I saw that light ten minutes before you sang out. '

"'I reported it as soon as I saw it, sir, ' I answered civilly. 

"'None o' your lip! Get up there! And say--'

"I had answered and turned, in no way bothered by the change. I was toput in the rest of the night on the yard; but I could sit down and restmy bones. 

"The skipper modified this. 'You keep your lookout there, and when thebell strikes, you call out, "All's well, weather maintopsail yard arm!"Then you flap your arms like wings, and crow like a rooster, and, yousay, "God bless Captain Black, and Mr. Macklin, and Mr. Parker!" D'youhear?'

"'Yes, sir, ' I said, and went aloft, boiling over with humiliation andrage. Of what use was life, I thought, and success at sea if it was tobe bought at such a price in manhood and self-respect? The more Ithought of it the stronger grew my resolve to end it in some way. 

"It was the man at the wheel who showed me the way. He was ahot-tempered Irishman, a good seaman; but an indifferent helmsman. Hehad put the ship off a couple of points at the skipper's order, so asto pass under the stern of the ship ahead, and had some trouble insteadying to the new course. He came in for a round of abuse from thethree, and at last was relieved, while the skipper gave himinstructions similar to mine. He was to take the lee maintopsail yard, call out the bells when struck on deck, and conclude with the cock-crowand blessing on his lords and masters. I heard his furious curses as hereached the yard and slid out to leeward. 

"We passed under the stern of the other ship, and I judged by her rigthat she was beating her way west, possibly to New York or Boston. Asshe dropped out of sight astern, eight bells struck on deck. Thelookout on the forecastle called out, 'Eight bells, t'gallantfo'cas'le! All's well!' in the peculiar singsong they have in thattrade. I repeated my call from the weather yard arm; but I left out thecrow and the prayer for blessings. The skipper and mates were lookingup at me, and I saw that the first was about to sing out something; butCasey over to leeward interrupted. 

"'Eight bells!' he called. 'See maintopsail yard arm. All's well, an'blankety blank yer black hearts and cowardly sools to damnation, Captain Black, Mister Macklin, an' Mister Parker!'

"'What's that--what?' stuttered the skipper. 'Weather yard arm there!What do _you_ say?'

"'Go to hell!' I answered furiously. 

"The skipper was near his cabin window, and I saw him reach within. Casey, over to leeward, filled the night with his imprecations. Hecalled down, not blessings, but the tortures of the damned on histormentors, and attracted the skipper's attention from me. When hestood up he held a short-barreled rifle, and with this he took carefulaim at Casey. Then there was a spat of flame, a report, a puff of smokefloating over the house, and Casey, an oath stopped on his lips, sprawled downward into the sea. 

"The watch had been called, and appeared in time to see this. I heardthe explosive but muttered comments, and then a concerted snarl ofhatred and rage as they rushed aft. But I paid no present attention toit. I had drawn my pistol, and was taking careful aim with my left handat the captain, not so much determined by fear that I should be next asby a resolve, born of my emotions before the shooting, to bring thingsto an end. 

"The skipper looked up at me and got the bullet, fairly in the face, Ithink, but I never was sure just where I hit him. He dropped, however, and lay still, while the two mates made a dive for the forwardcompanion. 

"Macklin got in; but not so Parker. The enraged men caught him justoutside the door, slammed in his face by Macklin, and I had one glimpseof him as I scrambled in along the footrope. He was in the center of acircle of flourishing sheath knives, his voice of command nearlysilenced by the vengeful shouts and oaths of the men, and when I lookedagain, as I dropped into the rigging, he was prone on his back, whilethe men were surging aft to enter the cabin by the after companion. ButMacklin was ahead of them, and had bolted it as he had the other. 

"I descended and mounted to the poop. 

"'Ye'll have to take command, sir, ' said a big, red-eyed fellow, namedFinnegan. 'Yer the shipped sicond mate, an' it b'langs to ye. '

"'Is the skipper dead?' I asked. 

"'Dead, as he ought to be, the murderer! Ye did well, sir!'

"'And Mr. Parker?' I glanced at the quiet, bleeding form at my feet. 

"'He's in small pieces, hild togither be his bones. '

"'Not a pleasant prospect for me, ' I said; 'but I'm in for it, same asall of us. We'll have to stand trial; for there's no escape. Butthere's a rat down in his hole that we'll have to catch. Look out, orhe'll pot one of you through his window!'

"I spoke at random, yet none too soon. A pistol exploded in the mate'swindow, and a man went down, shot through the heart--the last one tojoin the rush over to starboard. But the rush continued to the capstanbar rack amidships, and, armed with these handy clubs, they came backto batter in the companion. Macklin did not fire again, and I was onthe point of asking him out, to surrender on terms of amnesty anddeposition, when a crashing, grinding jar shook the ship from bow tostern, and all three topgallant masts went out of her, snapping at thecaps and falling forward. We had struck a rock in midocean. 

"There was no more thought of Macklin. As we jumped to the main deckand ran forward like sheep, the jars and jolts were resumed, workingaft, while the ship reeled far over to leeward. Chips was on deck, andI got him to sound the well. 'Four feet, and coming in fast!' hecalled, and the men rushed for the boats on the forward house, while Iwent aft to the wheel. I had never heard of a rock in this part of theAtlantic, and thought for a moment that we might have hit a submergedderelict; but soon put that thought away; nothing but solid and jaggedrock could so tear into a ship's bottom. 

"'No steerage way, sir, ' said the man at the wheel. 'She's fallen offdue south. '

"'Drop your wheel, ' I said, 'and lend a hand with the boats. '

"I waited a few moments before following him, looking around at theprospect. Since I had gone aloft the wind had hauled to the north anddied down to a gentle breeze, which barely ruffled the very slightground swell. It was not the pressure of this wind that had driven theship over the rock until she hung, pivoted, at a point near the stern;it was the ship's momentum. The wind, however, had swung her head tothe south, and it was bringing down on us a cold, damp fog out of thenorth, which already had shut out the moon and rendered indistinct theforms of the men at work on the boats. I could see, however, that thebow had settled nearly under, and knew that it was only a question ofmoments when the ship would slide, head first, down the declivity. Iran forward, and just as I started a report rang out from the aftercompanion and a bullet furrowed my hair. I had forgotten Macklin, buthad moved just in time. 

"Furious with anger and hatred, I halted in the alley and reached formy revolver; but it was gone from my pocket--jolted out, perhaps, as wejumped off the poop. So, I left Macklin to his own problem, and joinedthe men. 

"There were two whaleboats, which we had carried upside down on theforward house, and when I got there I found that the men, sailors allfrom head to foot, had turned them over, fitted in the bottom plugs, and bent long painters that led forward outside the rigging. There wasno time to rig hoisting tackles aloft, nor was there need, as a gang toeach could launch them bodily over, one on either side. 

"Sailors all, from head to feet, but wild 'packet rats' whose neckswere already in their halters! I considered my chance in an open boatwith that crowd, and thought of my gun, lying somewhere aft on the maindeck. Resolved to risk another shot from Macklin rather than my chanceunarmed among the men, I turned back, watching the cabin windows withone eye and searching the deck with the other; but I saw no gun, andperhaps Macklin did not see me, for there was no more shooting. 

"Giving it up at last, I ran forward as both boats went over the sideand the men were tumbling into them. As I ran I noticed the steeperincline to the deck, and that the forecastle was submerged; but I wasnot prepared for the sudden launch of the ship into the sea, nor thesickening crash of riven timbers as her after body was torn away, andwhich drowned my shouts to the men. 

"In a roaring, yeasty froth of tumultuous water, I went under, and whenI at last came to the surface, half drowned, I was alone on the sea, hidden from the boats by the thick envelope of fog. I shouted, and wasanswered faintly; but not able to determine the direction the soundcame from, I could only shout again and tread water, hoping to makesure. 

"But I could not make sure; sound is twisted around amazingly in fog, and little by little the calls grew fainter. I was tired out already, and my useless right arm ached with the hard usage it had latelyreceived. In the next few minutes, while my chin sank lower and lowerin the water, I thought of about every incident of my life; but just asthe first mouthful went down my throat my right foot hit something, andthe next moment I was standing on it--a hard, firm substance whichcould be nothing but the rock. 

"At first I found difficulty in holding my footing until I realizedthat I must breast a current of about half a knot; but when I hadmastered the knack I found no trouble. Feeling carefully with my feet, I explored the ground under foot, and following a rise to where itended found myself waist high out of water. This was better thannothing, and I resumed my shouts to the men in the boats. At times theyanswered; but very faintly, and after a while they grew silent. Andthen, from somewhere out of the fog came the faint stroke of a smallbell. I shouted again; but was not answered. 

"There was very little wind, and but a perceptible heave of the groundswell; so I was bothered at first only by the dense fog and thecurrent. But after a time I had other troubles, of a mental nature. Thewater was unquestionably rising, and whether or not it would rise abovemy chin was an unsolvable problem. I did not know the time of low tidein that part of the world on that night. Then, too, that bell soundedagain. And again and again I shouted into the silence. It struck twicethis time; but it was not until another half-hour had gone by, and itstruck three times with an interval between the second and thirdstrokes, that I realized that somewhere at hand was a ship's bellclock. I yelled for help, calling 'Ship ahoy! Give me a hand here! I'mstanding on bottom--on a reef! Lower a boat!'

"Nothing answered me, and I suppose I went more or less crazy as thenight went on and that infernal ghostly bell struck off the half-hours. It seemed to have the correct time; but it was hard to realize that aship had gone through a successful mutiny and shipwreck in thehalf-hour between eight bells and one bell. 

"But it ended at last, when, from the cold and the wet and the strainon my voice, I found myself unable to call out any more. And it struckme as rather hard, too; for at daylight the fog lifted a bit, andthere, about a mile and a half to the nor'ard, showed the lug sail ofone of the boats. The current must have drifted it to the north duringthe night, and when the fog lifted I suppose they set the lug andsailed 'fore the wind as the easiest and fastest way to sail. 

"But another sight met my eyes! Over to the east about fifty yards wasthe stern of the ship, taffrail and cabin out, and the mizzentop andtopmast. She was just hung there, canted to an angle of forty-five, andready to slide down with the first shift of a sea. And there was wherethat clock was, high and dry in the cabin! The tide had reached myshoulders by now, and perhaps this was what did the job; for I supposethere was some air in that wreck, and when an extra heavy pulse of theground swell came along, there was a slight wrenching sound, as thoughthe sternpost had carried away; then, with a very little flurry, thestern and mizzen sank out of sight. 

"But up into the froth and the bubbles caused by the plunge came thered head, anxious face, and big shoulders of Macklin. He sighted me, and came on, breasting the water with all the vigor of a strong man ingood form, and with a new look in his face that meant trouble for me. Ilooked for the boat; but the fog had thickened again, blotting her out. 

"'What you got there?' he demanded, as he puffed up close to me. 

"'Rock bottom, ' I answered. 'Keep off! There's room for only one. '

"'And that one is me!'

"I squared myself as I could, with my bad right hand tucked into myshirt out of the way, and my legs as far apart as I could get them. Istruck at him, and pushed him under; but the reacting force of the blowsent me backward, and then it was a mad scramble under water to get myfoothold again. Macklin came up, saw me, and swam under water until hehad reached my legs; then he hove me off and took my place. 

"But he wasn't used to the push of the current, and the next moment hewas off and swimming again, while I was on, breasting the current, andwaiting for him. He came back under water again; but this time I methim with a kick that sent him so far down as to give me hope he wouldstay there; but he didn't. He came up, swam around to the south, camedown with the current, and brushed me off. I did the same; but he metme with his feet, and I drifted by. However, I had him by the leg withmy one good hand, and he came with me. We swam, side by side; but hebeat me, and scrambled to his feet on the small spur of rock that meantlife to each of us, but not to both. I swam weakly around to the south, and then down on him; realizing that my strength was giving out. Butthe fight went on, and I soon realized that his gun was soaked, or leftbehind; otherwise he would have used it before this. 

"I have often wondered if God and the angels watched that fight inmid-ocean, or only hell and the devils. The nearest land to the westmust have been Cape Race, the nearest to the east the Azores, eachabout five hundred miles away. I did not know the longitude; but I didknow that we had sailed due east since I was disrated, and that then wewere on the forty-seventh parallel. 

"And so, in latitude forty-seven north, longitude unknown, two weakenedhuman brutes unable to strike a heavy and telling blow, yet animated bya fear of death and love of life that twisted their features intofrenzied contortions (I judged mine by Macklin's), struggled feebly forthe possession of a mountaintop rising from the sea bed, on thediminishing chance that some ship would come along to the rescue beforehunger, thirst, or a rising sea overcame them. 

"I hardly know how it ended; I only knew that I found myself too weakto breast the current, and then I gave up, and drifted. I went undertwice, I remember, and waited calmly for the end; but before the lastsinking I heard voices; then I was clutched by the hair, and as I wasdragged bodily into a boat I lost my senses. When I came to, the menlifted me up, and I saw big Finnegan at the tiller, standing erect anddeclaiming to something astern:

"'Stay there an' think it over, ye man-killin' shlave driver! Staythere, ye devil out o' hell, an' may the min ye've killed come back tokape ye company till yer master comes fur ye!'

"I took one look at Macklin. He was standing erect, breasting thecurrent with his arms folded, secure in the possession of the footholdhe had won from me. But he sent no call for help, and soon went out ofsight in the thinning fog as the boat sailed away. 

"There is little more to this yarn. We never saw the other boat again, and did not know the story they told if rescued. But among ourselves weagreed to say nothing about the mutiny or the shooting or therock--only that we had struck something submerged, that the ship hadsunk, and that the captain, first mate, and three sailors had beendrowned. We were picked up in a few days, told this lie, and were notquestioned closely. Then I realized why the men had stood by me; theywanted a shipped officer to justify the story. 

"But I knew the long arm of the law, and I did not know the fate of theother boat, or the tale they might tell. So, I shipped for the East, found and learned this strait, and have been here since, afraid to gohome. "

 * * * * *

This is the yarn I listened to on anchor watch thirty years ago. Itpertains to events forty years farther back in the past. If thatwhite-haired, mild-mannered old pilot is still alive, he is overninety-five years old, and immune from earthly punishment. 

But, before deciding to give this story to the world, I visited theUnited States Hydrographic Office for some corroborative data, and on apilot chart of 1896 read that one Captain Lloyd, of the British ship_Crompton_, had lately reported seeing in latitude forty-seven northand longitude thirty-seven degrees twenty minutes west, a rock sixtyfeet long and eight or ten feet high in the middle. It was at a time oflow spring tides, and such a menace to navigation could easily eludeobservation under ordinary conditions. Captain Lloyd averred that hesaw it at twenty minutes to eight on a fine, sunshiny morning, so closeand clear to him that he forbore lowering a boat. 

Yet, as I learned from further inquiry, he was the subject of muchridicule, and his story was generally disbelieved. 

Should it be disbelieved?

THE ARGONAUTS

A few months ago I attended a banquet and left it as I always leavesuch functions, hungry. Entering an all-night lunch room I took a seat, and gave my order to a waiter, who, when he had filled it, sat down atthe table with me. It was very late, and his duties were light. 

"You're looking well, " he remarked, as his glance traveled over myevening clothes. "You're dead swell, but the last time I saw you, youwere covered with mud, carrying a stern line ashore in the WellandCanal. "

I took stock of him. He was white-haired, but had the keen, intelligentface of a man of forty-five who had not yet given up the fight; alively, hopeful face, one that comes to those who win oftener thanlose. His skin was brown, as though the sun and wind of all the zoneshad smitten it. His eyes, gray, steadfast and humorous, had in themwhen half closed the twinkle of self-confidence, but also, in theirwide-open stare, the intensity of a man of initiative and suddenaction. In his voice were character, individuality, and the habit ofcommand; yet he wore the short jacket of a waiter, and might haveaccepted a tip. I could not recall having met him. 

"You seem to have the advantage of me, " I said. "I know the WellandCanal, however, though I am trying to forget that ditch. "

"You can't, " he laughed. "No man can who ever went through it. Thattrip with you in the old _Samana_ was my first and last. I struckfor salt water again when the old man paid me off at Port Colborne. Don't you remember going to school with me?" He mentioned his name, andwith a little effort I recalled him--a schoolmate a little older thanmyself, who had gone to sea early in life, and returned a full-fledgedsalt-water navigator, to ship, on his record, as first mate in theschooner that carried me before the mast, and to meet his Waterloo inthe Welland Canal, the navigation of which demands qualities nevertaught nor acquired in the curriculum of sea-faring. After groundingthe schooner several times, parting every line on board, and driving usto open revolt by the extra work coming of his mistakes, he wasdischarged by the skipper. As I thought of all this the grumblingsailor rose within me, and there at the table, he a waiter, I a writer, we fought out a grudge of twenty years' standing. But it endedamicably; I called him a farmer, he called me a soldier, and we shookhands. 

"I've learned, " he said, as we settled back, "only in the last month orso, that you're the fellow that writes these rotten sea stories. Whydon't you write real sea stories?"

"For the same reason that you don't serve a real Welsh rabbit, " Ianswered, tapping the now cold concoction he had served me. "I couldn'tsell a real story. Truth is too strange to pose as fiction. "

"That's so, " he answered, slowly. "Who'd think that you could havebecome a writer, and I a hash slinger? Making lots of money, Isuppose. "

"No, I'm not, or I wouldn't be in your society to-night. "

"We're all bluffers, I guess. You are, here in this beanery with yourglad rags on. I am, too--no, not now. I'm slinging hash, and glad ofthe chance. But I was a millionaire for a time. Not long. But while itlasted I had dreams--big dreams. "

I asked him about this, and there followed his story. It wasinterrupted every few moments by calls for "ham and--, " "corn beefand--, " "mystery and white wings, " and it kept me at the table untildaylight. He preluded it by the advice to write it up as a real seastory, but asked that I suppress his name until he had saved enough toget him to Cuba, where he had new plans for advancement. And now, aftermonths of thought, I am following his advice; for no effort of thecreative mind, and no flight of conventional fancy, can equal theweird, grim yarn that he reeled off between orders. 

"You must have read in the papers a few weeks back, " he began, "aboutthat bunch of college men that chartered the old racer _Mayflower_, filled her up with diving gear and dynamite, and went down after thetreasure in the _Santa Margherita_. "

I nodded assent. "Yes, and a hurricane hit them and they barelyescaped. "

"They're keeping mum, " he said, "and mean to try again; but it's nouse. That treasure is seven hundred miles to the nor-nor'east now, andI was about the last man to look at it. It's resting in the hold of asmall schooner, sunk in four hundred fathoms. I never heard of thattreasure ship until about three years ago, when I quit a brigantine atCedar Keys and mixed in with the boarding-house crowd. There was afellow out of a job named Gleason, and he had a chart in his pocketthat he talked about, but never showed. He told us all about that oldSpanish ship that went down with all hands in the sixteenth century, carrying with her about seven millions' worth of gold, silver, andjewels; and he knew the location. He had got it from a drunken diverwho had seen her on the sea bottom, spelled her dingy old name on thestern, and saved the news to himself while he wormed out of the skipperthe latitude and longitude of the place. And now he wanted to enlistcapital, or make up a crew of men that would do the work. Dead easy, hesaid. Just to get there, drag the bottom with two boats and a length ofchain until the wreck was located, then to go down in a diving suit, hook on to the chests and hoist them up. 

"Well, in the crowd that he talked to there wasn't a dollar. We wereall dead broke, but we were all ambitious. There was Pango Pete, anigger six foot tall, who couldn't write his name, but he was a seamanfrom his feet up; and a Dago named Pedro Pasqualai. These two were thekind that will choke you before they ask the time of night. Then therewas Sullivan, old man Sullivan, a decrepit old codger who had sailedsecond mate all his life, and never got a first mate's berth because hecouldn't master navigation. And there was Peters, a young fellow filledup with the romance and the glory of the life at sea--rot, as you and Iknow, but he was enthusiastic, and that was enough. A trio of Dutchmenwere taken in--Wagner, Weiss, and Myers, three good fellows down ontheir luck. A Portuguese named Christo, and two Sou'wegian brothersnamed Swanson completed the bunch. We talked it over down at the end ofthe fruit dock, where the oyster boats come in and make fast, and wherethe downs-and-outs congregate to smoke and boast of the prosperouspast. 

"But this crowd talked of the prosperous future. Seven millions, saidGleason, lay down there off Turks Island in less than sixty fathoms, and all we needed was some kind of a craft to get us there, a divingsuit, and a storage battery to light up a bulb to search for thetreasure. These things seemed beyond our reach, until a schooner camein for supplies. We sized her up, and Gleason went wild as herdifferent fittings and appliances showed up. There were the divingdresses we needed; there was the storage battery; there were the extraanchors for mooring a craft over a certain spot, and the air pumps andparaphernalia for diving operations, scattered about the deck. She wasa small craft, and was manned by men who did not act and talk likesailors. There seemed to be no skipper, and they smoked on deck whileworking, and talked back and forth as though all were equal. 

"'A company, ' said Gleason, 'just like us, only they've got the money, and possibly the secret. Well, the company that gets the loot owns itand such matters as the ownership of the schooner and the outfit can besettled afterwards, possibly out of court. What do you say? Are yougame?'

"We were. We laid low, but watched, and when that schooner was filledup with grub, we were ready to raid her and chuck the crew overboard;but it wasn't necessary to do the latter. They filled up too late forthe tide and went ashore for the evening, leaving no one aboard but aJapanese cook. We remembered, as we climbed aboard after dark, that wehadn't a man among us who could cook, and so, instead of dropping thatJap over the rail, we simply locked him into a stateroom and made sail. 

"Naturally, as Gleason originated the scheme, he was elected captain, but, as I was the only navigator in the crowd, I was made first mate, and the big nigger, Pango Pete, second mate. It looked good fordiscipline, for even pirates recognize the need of it, and the firstman that growled or kicked had to deal with Pete. He whaled a fewbefore we'd got around the Florida Cape, but he also whaled the Jap forbad cooking and insolence--which was a mistake. That Jap was aneducated man, a college graduate and a member of the Japanese Samurai, a curious class in that country that never yield, never forgive, andkill themselves when defeated. We didn't know this; we only knew thathe was a mighty poor cook. 

"After we were around the Cape, Gleason gave me the latitude andlongitude of the spot, and I made for it. It took me two or three daysof careful observations and calculations before I announced that wewere within six seconds of the spot, which is all that navigation willdo. Then we dropped anchor and began to drag. We knotted together everyline we had, and in the middle we had a length of mooring chain thatwould stick to the bottom. We kept two small boats, to which this wasattached, a quarter of a mile apart and pulled on parallel lines, andat last felt a drag; then we pulled together, gathering in the slack, and when we met, the schooner, under charge of Gleason, came up andanchored, over the spot. 

"I was the only man there who had any diving experience, so I wentdown. Say, have you ever been under water in a diving suit, trustingyour life to the fellows above who pump the air into your helmet? No?Well, it's a curious experience. I had the feeling as I went down thatI was number thirteen of that bunch, and that they only needed to shutoff my air supply to make their number twelve instead of thirteen. Butthat didn't happen; they pumped, and I breathed and saw the oldgalleon, the _Santa Margherita_. She lay there, heeled over tostarboard, covered with the ooze and the slime of the sea, withbarnacles everywhere. 

"I signaled for slack and walked around her, taking note of her rig. She had three masts, and three tops very much like the fighting tops ofour modern battleships. There were no royal masts, but she had twosprit-sail yards under the bowsprit and jib boom, and a huge lateenyard on the mizzen that took the place of the cro'-jack. But her poopdeck was a wonder; five tiers of windows one above the other, and ontop three big lanterns much like the ordinary street lamp. Of course, all canvas and running gear had rotted away, but here and there was aleg of standing rigging, preserved by the tar. She was a big craft inher day, no doubt, but not so big compared with present-day ships; atany rate I could reach up to her channels, and by this means climbedaboard. 

"The deck and rail were a foot thick with mud, and the small, spar-deckguns could hardly be distinguished. I saw at once that I would needhelp, and signaled to be hauled up. On deck I told the news and allhands, even the Jap, went crazy over it. We got out two more divingsuits, rigged a bulb for each, and Pango, Peters, and myself went downagain. 

"Now, this isn't a yarn of the finding of that treasure. Anyone caninvent such yarns, and I've read dozens of them. They all wind upsuccessfully, with each man wealthy and happy. This is a yarn of themen who found that treasure, and what happened to them. So, I'll justsay that we didn't find a skeleton or a ghost when we got below decks. All hands were up, I suppose, when that ship went down, and the rush ofwater as she plunged, washed them off. We found seven big chests in the'tween-decks forward of the cabin, and in them all were coins, andjewelry, and here and there in the mess, what might have been an opal, or some kind of jewel. All the stuff was black from the action of thesalt water; but we knew we had the real thing, and hooked on tackles. We had to come up to help each time we lifted a chest, for, after thechest was out of water, it was too heavy for the crowd above; but atlast they were all up, and stowed snugly on the floor of the cabin. Then, after final search for other loot worth taking, we picked up ouranchor and cleared out, not yet having decided where we were going. 

"We were pirates under the law, and didn't know but what all therevenue cutters on the coast were looking for us, for the theft of thatschooner. But with seven millions of bullion and jewels, melted down, counted up, and translated into cash in some bank, we didn't care forthe charge of piracy. The real trouble was to get that stufftranslated, and while we argued we sailed due east, out into the broadAtlantic. Peters, the young enthusiast, had been a jeweler, and he toldus that nothing short of a blast of air in conjunction with the heat ofa fire would melt gold and silver. Well, where could we set up a blastfurnace with not a dollar in the party? My suggestion--and I was backedby Gleason, Peters, and old man Sullivan--was that we count out theloot, separate every salable jewel, and make some big port like NewYork, Liverpool, or Rio Janeiro, sell the jewels and get ready moneywith which to plan for the disposal of the rest; but we had to dealwith men like Pango, Christo, Pedro, and the three Dutchmen, who didn'tknow what they were up against. They wanted an immediate count up anddivision; then, each man to go his way. The nonsense of it did notstrike them; thirteen men to divide up seven heavy chests--each oneshouldering seven-thirteenths of a load that took the whole thirteen tolift with a four-fold tackle. We asked the Jap cook what he thought, but he had no opinion. 

"It's somewhat curious how the different men of that bunch haddifferent ideas of what they wanted. Young Peters wanted to go back tohis native town and win the girl that had soured on him because he waspoor. Pango, Pedro, and the two Sou'wegians only wanted a big drunk. Old man Sullivan wanted a course in a Nautical School and a firstmate's certificate. The three Germans wanted to get to New York and setup in the saloon business. Gleason wanted to study law, and I wanted tostudy medicine and be a doctor, a gentleman who could enter any societyin the world. The Jap didn't give out his aspirations. 

"And so, growling like an unhappy family in a menagerie, we sailedeast, with the question unsettled. But at last we won over the Dagoesand the Dutchmen, and agreed upon New York as a port, and the sellingof the jewels in some Bowery pawnshop, where no questions are asked. Then we shook hands all round, gave the Jap hell about his cooking--forwe had been too worried to attend to that matter before--and squaredaway before the trade wind for Sandy Hook and a market. 

"From jealousy and mutual distrust, we all slept in the cabin. Therewere plenty of staterooms for the crowd, though some of us doubled up. None of us wanted to remain away from the seven chests of treasure, andthe Japanese cook, who might have slept in the cook's room next thegalley, still showed a preference for his room in the cabin, and we didnot contest it. But now we were millionaires and easy--dead easy. Westood watch, steered and trimmed sail with no man for boss, for now thework was done, Gleason and myself and the nigger Pango gave up ourfalse positions. We were a democracy, and loved and trusted oneanother, only, when we roused out the watch below and found that oldman Sullivan did not come, and on investigation found him stone dead inhis berth without a sign of violence, we forgot our brotherly love andbegan to wonder. 

"We did not know what he died of, but we gave him sea burial that day, and Gleason read a chapter from the book. We concluded that the old manhad died of heart failure, or old age, and thought no more about itafter the day had passed. But, when we called the watch at eight bellsnext mornin', we couldn't get one of the Swanson brothers up. He wascold and stiff; and there was nothing wrong with him either. That is, he had turned in cheerful and healthy and died during sleep, leaving nosign. 

"The other Swanson raised merry hell that day, raving about the deck, mourning for his dead brother. But his grief was short-lived, for whenwe tried to waken him next watch he was cold and stiff. We buried himwith the ceremonies, and began to think--all of us. We wondered whethermen may rake up ill-gotten treasure from a dead past without comingunder influences of that dead past. We thought of the conquered andenslaved natives, laboring in the mines for the aggrandizement andenrichment of Spain, and giving up their lives in the work, unrecognized and forgotten, while their exploiters, the children andrelatives of Ferdinand and Isabella, sat back in luxury andself-satisfaction. We wondered as to what was killing our shipmates, ghosts or poison. 

"Naturally, we suspected the cook, and Pango, the Dagoes, and thesurviving Sou'wegian were for tossing him overboard; but the rest of uswouldn't have it. There was no evidence of poison, and as we'd done nokilling so far in our piratical venture, we'd better keep clear of itnow, with so much at stake. A court that would acquit us as soldiers offortune that had merely borrowed a schooner might hang us as piratesand murderers; but we watched the Jap. We kept him away from the grubwhile we ate it. He brought it on in two or more big dishes, and therewas no chance of his poisoning one without the rest. We weren't afraidof that. 

"I examined Swanson thoroughly before we buried him, and there wasn't amark on him, or a sign of anything out of the way, except what didn'tseem in any way important, just below each ear, and back of the cornerof the cheek bone, was a little pink spot; but there was no blood, andno sign of finger prints on the throat. 

"Peters, the romantic young fellow, got ghosts on his mind, and as hethought about it, they got on his nerves. He couldn't sleep, and walkedaround, up and down from the cabin to the deck. The others slept intheir watch below, and on that night nobody died. But the next nightPeters was too exhausted to stay awake, and he went to sleep on thecabin floor alongside the chests. We couldn't waken him at eight bells, and we knew his troubles were over. At daylight I examined his body. Nothing wrong, only the two little pink spots under the ears. We buriedhim at daylight, with scant pretense of a burial service. Things werelooking serious. 

"All this time we were plowing along before the trade wind, but it soonpanned out and we had light, shifty airs from all directions, withrain--regular Gulf Stream weather. It made us bad-tempered, and Pangoand Gleason had a fight. It was a bad fight, and we couldn't stop them;both were powerful men, and as they brushed into me in their whirlinglunge along the deck, locked tight, they knocked me six feet away. WhenI got to my feet, Pango had Gleason down and was choking him. I got ahandspike and battered that coon's head with it; but he wouldn't letgo, and before others came up to help he had killed him. He went forme, but had to stop before the handspikes of the crowd. 

"Now, with Gleason dead, the command devolved upon me or Pango, andthis fellow was in a mood to demand the place. He could lick any threeof us, but not all hands; but, while we were growling about it andcooling down, we found other troubles to keep us busy. We had piledseveral tons' weight on the weak cabin floor timbers of an oldschooner, and of a sudden, down they crashed to the hold below, leavinga yawning hole in the cabin floor and starting a butt or two in theplanking. It was pump, pump, pump, now, for we couldn't rig any kind ofa purchase to clear those busted chests away from the leak. Pango was agood worker, and, under the pressure of extreme fatigue, we forgot ourgrudges. I did not care for the cheap position of command over a bunchof foreigners, and so we made Pango skipper, while I remained navigatorand mate. Pango promptly quit pumping, saying that skippers don't pump. And that night he quit everything. As skipper he stood no watch, but atbreakfast time he was cold, with the same little marks under his ears. On his skin, however, they showed a brownish black. 

"Gleason had been choked to death, and I had examined the imprint ofPango's fingers before we buried him. There was hardly a sign; nothingat all to show that the little pink spots came from the pressure of astrangler's grip. Besides, you cannot choke a man asleep without wakinghim. He would make some kind of a fuss, and apprise others; but thatnever happened. 

"There were but seven of us now, three Germans, two Dagoes, the Jap, and myself. I talked with that Jap. He was an educated man, highlytrained in one of our universities; but he couldn't tell me anything, he said. It was all mysterious and horrible--this quiet taking off ofmen while they slept. As for poisoning, of which he knew he wassuspected, it was absurd. There was no poison on board, to begin with;and why should he, a landsman, seek to poison the men who could takethe ship and treasure to port? What could he do alone on the sea? Thiswas logical, and as he was a small, weak, and confiding sort ofcreature, I exonerated him in my mind from any suspicion of choking thevictims. 

"That night the two Dagoes, Pedro and Christo, passed into the landbeyond. There were the same little marks, but nothing else. Weiss, Wagner, and Myers, the three Germans, got nutty about this time, andtalked together in their lingo while they pumped; and when they werealone they talked to themselves. I confess that _I_ got nutty. Whowouldn't, with this menace hanging over him? I walked around the deckwhen I was off pump duty, and I remember that I planned a great schoolwhere ambitious young sailor men could study medicine, and escape thedrudgery of a life 'fore the mast. Then I planned free eating-housesfor tramps, and I was going to use some of my wealth to investigate theprivate life of a Sunday school superintendent, who, when I was a kid, predicted that I would come to a bad end. You see, we never can judgeof our own mental condition at the time. It's only when you look backthat you can take stock of yourself. The result of this mentaldisturbance upon me was insomnia. I couldn't get to sleep; but I kepttrack of the ship, and worried the three Dutchmen and the Jap intotrimming sail when necessary. 

"We'd got up to the latitude of the Bermudas, I think, and I wasbeginning to hope that the curse had left us; for we had passed throughthree nights without a man dying. But on a stormy morning, when thegaff topsails were blown away, and we four men--for the Jap was uselesson deck--were trying to get a couple of reefs in the mainsail, Wagnersuddenly howled out a lot of Dutch language and jumped overboard. Iflung him a line, but he wouldn't take it, and passed astern. The poordevil had taken the national remedy for trouble. Did you ever notice itin Germans, even the best? When things go wrong they kill themselves. They're something like the Chinese in this. 

"There were only four of us now, counting the Jap, who still spoiledgood grub, and it took a long time to snug that schooner down to doublereefs and one head sail. The water in the hold had gained on us, and wepumped while we could stand it, then knocked off, and dropped down ondeck for a snooze. We were dead beat, and told the cook to call us ifthe wind freshened or if anything happened. He didn't call us, butsomething happened. I wakened in time, and stood up, sleepy and stupidand cold; for you can't sleep on deck, even in the tropics, withoutgetting chilled; and we were up to thirty-six north. The Jap wasfooling round the galley, and the schooner, with the wheel becketed, was lifting up and falling off, practically steering herself, by-the-wind. Of course, I thought of the water in the hold, and soundedthe well. There was four feet of wet line, and I knew that things werebad. Then I went to the two Dutchmen, to call them to the pumps, andfound them cold and stiff, each with the little pink marks under theears. 

"Well, I naturally went more or less crazy. I took that Jap by thethroat and asked him what had happened. He did not know, he said. Hehad left us to sleep, and rest, sorry for us, and trying to cook us agood meal when we wakened. He was in a shaking fright, trembling andquavering, and I eased up. What was the use of anger and suspicion inthe face of this horrible threat of death while you slept? We hove thetwo bodies overboard, and made a stagger at the pump; but we could notlessen the water in the hold, and at last I gave up, cleared away aboat, and stocked it with water and grub for two. Meanwhile I shaped acourse for the Bermudas, and steered it after a fashion, hoping that Imight beach the schooner and get, out of some court of salvage, a partof that seven millions down in the hold. 

"But I had to steer, and keep the deck, for the Jap was useless. I keptit up until we sighted land, and then flopped, done up, tired out, utterly exhausted by work, and yet unable to sleep. I sang out to thecook, as I lay down on the hatch, to try and steer toward that blot ofblue on the horizon, and then passed into a semi-dazed state of mindthat was not sleep, nor yet wakefulness. I could hear, and, through myhalf-opened eyelids, could see; yet I was not awake, for I could notguard myself. I saw that Jap creeping toward me. I saw the furtive, murderous glint in his beady eyes. I heard the soft pat of his feet onthe wet deck, and I heard his suppressed breathing. But I could notmove or speak. 

"He came and stood over me, then reached down and softly pressed thetips of his forefingers into my throat, just below the ears and back ofthe cheek bones. Softly at first, so that I hardly felt it, then morestrongly, and a sense of weakness of body came over me, somethingdistinct from the weakness that I had felt while sinking down to tryand sleep. It seemed a stopping of breath. I could not move, as yet, but could see, out of the corners of my eye, and a more hateful, murderous face never afflicted me than the face of that Japanese cook. 

"He kept it up, steadily increasing the pressure, and soon I realizedthat I was not breathing. Then, I do not know why, there came to me thethought of that Sunday school superintendent, and his advice, to praywhen in trouble. I forgot my grouch. I said to myself, 'God help me, God help me, ' and I wakened. I found that I could move. I shook off theJap, and he staggered back, chuckling and cluttering in his language. Irose to my feet, weak and shaky, and he ran away from me; but I foundmyself without power to follow. I was more than weak; I was just alive, just able to breathe, but I could not speak. I tried to, but the wordswould not come. He shut himself into his galley, and, with regard tothe condition of the schooner, and my own helplessness, I painfullyclimbed into the boat I had stocked and cleared away the davit falls. Then I lay down. 

"I have a dim remembrance of that sleep in the boat, of wakingoccasionally to drive that cowardly Jap off with an upraised oar; of myutter inability to speak to him, and the awful difficulty of taking along breath. But the final plunge of the schooner stands out. I wasawake, or as nearly awake as I could be. The Jap was forward, and thedecks were awash. I knew that she was going down, and got out my knifeto cut the falls when the boat floated. I did this successfully, for, though I could not speak, I could move, and as the schooner plungedunder, and the screams of that heathen rang in my ears, I cut the bowtackle, then the stern tackle, and found myself adrift in a turmoil ofwhirlpools. 

"I was picked up a few days later by a fruiter, and taken into NewYork. I found my hair had turned white. I've been working as waitermost of the time since, hoping to enlist somebody's interest towardsalving that schooner; but it's no go. I'm going to Cuba, where I'veheard of a pot of money in the Santiago hills. Want to go along?"

"No, " I answered. "But, tell me, what killed those men?"

"The Jap must have been an expert in jiu jitsu, the wrestling game ofthat country. I've made a stagger at studying medicine since then, andlearned a little. The pneumogastric nerve did the business. It passesfrom the base of the brain, down past the heart and lungs and ends nearthe stomach. It is motor, sensory, and sympathetic, all in one. Gentlepressure inhibits breathing, continued pressure, or stimulus, paralyzesthe vocal chords; a continuance of the stimulus renders youunconscious, and a strong pressure brings about stoppage of the heartaction, and death. "

THE MARRIED MAN

He told the story while he and I smoked at one end of his veranda, andhis kindly faced wife talked with "the only girl on earth" at the otherend, beyond reach of his voice. He was a large, portly, and benign oldgentleman, with an infinite experience of life, whom I had long knownas a fellow-tenant in the studio building. He was not an artist, but aneditorial-writer on one of the great dailies, who worked, cooked, andslept in his studio, until Saturday evening came, when he regularlydisappeared, until Monday morning. 

There was nothing in this to surprise me, until he invited the onlygirl and myself to visit his country home over Sunday, incidentallyinforming us that he was a married man, and had been for more thantwenty years. 

And we found him most happily married. Indeed, he and his white-hairedwife were so foolishly fond of each other that their caresses wouldhave seemed absurd had they not been so genuine. 

These old lovers had made much of us; and they seemed so sincerelyinterested in our coming marriage that, in the evening, as nightsettled over the quiet little suburb, and we sought the veranda forcoolness, I ventured to comment to my host on his mode of life. 

"Best plan in the world, " he answered. "You'll find it so, after a yearor two of creative work at home. Don't give up your studio. If you do, you will suffer--as I did before I began my double life--from nervousprostration. I was writing when I married--long-winded essays, sermons, editorials, and arguments about nothing at all, simply built up fromthe films of my imagination. The thousand-and-one distractions ofhousehold life interfered too much, and the more I tried to force mybrain the more I fatigued it. The result was that I had a bad sixmonths with myself, and then gave out, just on the verge of insanity. 

"Yes, my home life nearly maddened me, as I have said. Then, I took astudio, lived in it, and visited my wife twice a week. The result wasthat I got my work done, and found my wife as glad to see me as I wasto see her. It was like a lad's going to see his girl; and, talk as youlike about conjugal bliss, a woman gets tired of a man about the houseall day long. Still, there is a danger attached to this dual residence. One must walk straight, for he is a marked man. I had an experience atthe beginning that taught me the need of prudence. 

"It was while I was mentally convalescent, but yet a very weak man, nervous, irritable, and of unsound judgment. There was about the samekind of a crowd in the building as now--artists, musicians, actors, andactresses. There were women coming and going at all hours, and allsorts of shady characters had access to the place. One day a neighbornamed Bunker brought a pleasing young person in black into my place, and introduced us. She was the widow, she informed me, of a newspaperman, who often, when alive, had spoken of me. So hearing that I was inthe building, she had asked her friend, Mr. Bunker, to bring ustogether, as she wished to know her dear husband's friends. She wipedaway a tear at this point--genuine, too. 

"Now, I had no remembrance of her husband, but, feeling kindly towardany newspaper man's widow, I welcomed her, and Bunker left us together. She was intelligent, with literary aspirations, and we chatted a whilevery agreeably. Then she borrowed a book, and left. 

"I had noticed that, though neatly dressed, her clothing was palpablycheap in quality, and, when she came again--without Bunker, thistime--it seemed a little more worn than was consistent with good times. So I questioned her gently, and learned that she had eaten nothing thatday. She was trying to make her way by writing short stories, and thatfact aroused my pity--a pity that grew when I saw her eat the luncheonI provided from my ice-box. 

"She did not come again for a month, and then she appeared with theblackest eye I had ever seen on a woman. She was seedier than ever, andlooked hungry. I was deeply sorry for her, believing her clothing asure index of an honest woman's struggle to remain honest. Partly fromthe delicacy of feeling due to this belief, and partly because I hadbut thirty-five cents in my pocket, I made no offer of pecuniaryassistance. But, after giving me a conventional explanation of thecause of the black eye, she hinted plainly that, unless she could raiseten dollars before night, she would be turned out of her room. This wasserious, and I took thought. 

"It was Friday, and a holiday. I knew that there was no one in thebuilding but Bunker and myself, and Bunker was one of those rollickingsouls who are in a continuous condition of cheerful impecuniosity. There was not a place open in the neighborhood except the saloons, andthere I was not known. Clearly, I could not raise any money for herthat day; but I promised her the use of my studio for the two followingnights, when I should be home in the country, and I agreed to induceBunker, who slept in his boarding-house, to put her up in his place forthat night. This would provide sleeping quarters and the use of mygas-stove and ice-box for three nights and two days, by which timesomething might turn up. She expressed herself as satisfied, and I wentout to interview Bunker. 

"'No, ' he declared, vehemently, 'I can't take any woman to my place. ''Bunker, ' I interrupted, solemnly, 'you brought this young woman here, you have pretended to be her friend, and her claim upon you is enoughto warrant her in expecting help at this critical moment. Remember, Bunker, this is a crisis with her. If she is helped, she may pullthrough; if not, she may lose heart and courage, and go to ruin. '

"My words impressed him. 'All right, ' he said; 'I don't know much abouther lately--knew her family well, out West--that's all. I'll give youmy key, before I go home--want to lock myself in and work for a whilenow. Have a drink. Got some good stuff here. '

"I declined, and went back to my visitor, picking up on the way atelegraph messenger, who had arrived with a dispatch for me. 

"Unwearied in well-doing, glad that I was an instrument in helping thisworthy young woman, I assured her of the success of my mission--beforeopening the telegram. And she thanked me, with tears--genuine again. Then, slightly affected myself, I broke the envelope, and read:

 "'Meet me 5. 30 Pennsylvania ferry. If miss you will come to your office. 

 "'MAUD MILNER. '

"Now, Maud Milner was the wife of an old friend of mine; and, too, shewas my wife's old school chum. She had never been in New York, and shedid not know that my 'office' was a bachelor's apartment. But her visithad been prearranged, and I had written the invitation on my studiostationery, so that her response was quite innocent; yet, I hadpeculiar reasons--aside from the presence there of my penniless andinteresting protégée--for not wishing her to visit my place in town. 

"I had paid her fully as much attention before her marriage as I had mywife; in fact, I courted them both at once, in order to arouse theirsense of pique. Not a strictly honorable thing to do, had either ofthem cared for me, initially; but neither did care, and I might nothave won my wife by any other plan. The two were bad friends for awhile, and, to this day, my wife cannot rid herself of a very slightjealousy. So, you see the reason for my anxiety to avoid anypossibility of complications. 

"I had just enough time in which to get to the ferry, and, afteremphasizing to the widow the necessity of her getting Bunker's keybefore he left, and of leaving my studio empty against the possiblearrival of Mrs. Milner without me, I rushed away. 

"I reached the ferry on time; but Mrs. Milner was not there, nor didshe come, though I waited until seven o'clock. Then I inquired, and anofficial informed that the five-thirty--the train boat--had met with anaccident, and had landed her passengers at the nearest dock, which wasa little further up. I hurried there, but Mrs. Milner was not visible. At last, fearing lest she had gone to the studio, and had met the widowwith that picturesque black eye, I hastened uptown again. 

"At the street-door I met Bunker--drunk as a lord. 

"'Is she up there yet?' I asked, anxiously. 

"'Who?' he answered, in a tone that told me he had forgotten. 

"'Did you give her your key? Give me that key--the key of your studio. Hurry up!'

"A dim light of intelligence flashed over his cheerful face, and hegrinned. 

"'Oh, yesh--yesh; thash so!' He pulled out a bunch of keys. 'Here'skeys, ol' man--street-door key and studio key. '

"As he staggered off, I bounded up the stairs, with the two keys he hadpulled from his bunch. 

"The widow met me at my door. 

"'Has a lady called here?' I asked, hastily. 

"'Somebody peeped in, ' she said. 'It may have been a lady, but Ithought it was Mr. Bunker, and as soon as I could--I was dressing myeye--I followed out; but he was gone. '

"'Oh, Lord!' I groaned. 'If it was she, she's gone out to my place, andshe will tell my wife. '

"Then I remembered that Mrs. Milner did not have my country address, and was comforted. 

"But I had been extremely agitated, and now my shattered nervous systemwent back on me so completely that I practically turned thatinteresting female out. 

"'The lady may come back at any moment, ' I said. 'Here are thekeys--this one for the outer door, this one for the studio. Don't lether find you with me in this place. '

"I gave the widow the keys, and she left, saying that she would make acall on someone who had promised her employment, and that she would notannoy me further. She was extremely grateful for my kindness, and allthat. 

"I hurried her out; and, after a while, settled down to my desk, andworked through the evening--worked hard, to keep from worrying over thewhereabouts of Mrs. Milner, alone in that great city. 

"Mrs. Milner quite failed to appear; but, at eleven o'clock the otherone came. I heard her in the hall, fumbling at the keyhole of Bunker'sdoor, and went out. 

"'This key will not unlock the door, ' she said, and I joined her. 

"Trying the key, I found that it did not fit--in fact, that it was akey shaped differently from all other door-keys in that building; and Iknew that the befuddled Bunker had made a mistake. 

"'He gave you the right key for the street-door, ' the widow whimpered;'why did he give the wrong one for this door?'

"'Drunk, ' I growled. 'Come in, and we'll talk it over. '

"'Oh, I cannot, ' she complained. 'To think of it! the terrible positionI am in! Oh, to think of it!'

"'Don't think of it, ' I answered; 'it's all right. Don't think of it, and don't talk of it. I'll say nothing, and I'll go home as soon asI've finished the page I'm on. Come in and sit down. '

"I led her in, and sat her down, but her plaint would not cease. Ifancied there was a smell of liquor in the air, but I could not be surethat it was not the clinging odor left by Bunker. I turned to my work, and endeavored to write, but could not; for now her mood changed to oneof patronage, and she advised me upon my methods, my style of writing, my manner of living. She promised to be a friend to me all her life. She would help me to reform my rather slap-dash style of writing, andto give it the literary touch, and she would help me in my punctuation. She had made a study of my editorials, and knew all my weak points. 

"All this was enough to exasperate a steadier-nerved man than myself. It drove me, barely convalescent from mental collapse, to distraction. 

"'Here, ' I said, rudely, standing up, 'you will not stop talking, so Imust stop work. I'll give it up and go home. '

"'Oh, don't let me disturb you, ' she said, pleadingly, as she, too, rose and approached me; 'I will be quiet, I really will. '

"But I smelt the odor of liquor again now plainly from her breath, andI did not believe that she could stop talking if she tried. Myresolution to go was made stronger. 

"I went to a cabinet at the far end of the studio, to get some papers Iwished to carry home with me. I returned quickly. 

"But, in that short time, she had made changes; she had laid aside herhat and jacket when she came in, but now she stood before my mirror, shaking her hair down her back, and unbuttoning her collar. She smiledsweetly as she turned to me. 

"Without a word, I caught up my hat, and fled. 

"Down in the street, I looked at my watch. It was nearly midnight. Itwould take me until two in the morning to get home, where I would haveto wake my wife, and relate the whole truth--or else tell her a lie asto why I was home a day ahead of time. I cared to do neither, andthought of a hotel. But, though I had a commutation ticket in mypocket, my money was now reduced to twenty-five cents--not enough topay for a night's lodging. There was not a soul left in that darkenedbuilding to whom I could appeal. 

"Then I bethought me of a friend of many years' standing, who lived onthe top floor of a bachelor apartment not far away. With my grip in myhand, I hurried to his street, and was taken up by the elevator to thetop floor, dimly lighted and bordered with doors. 

"I knew his door, and knocked on it. There was no answer. I knockedagain and again, but he did not respond. At last, in desperation, Irang for the elevator, and asked the attendant where my friend was. Theboy did not know, but thought that the gentleman must be in, andasleep. 

"However, I went down, and waited for a half-hour at the door, hopingthat he had been out late and would soon appear. But he did not, and Iwent up again, resolved to batter down his door, if necessary. I beganthe attack at once, and, though I produced no effect on the door, I didupon my knuckles and the repose of other tenants of the floor. Doorsopened, and tired, sleepy voices inquired the reason of the tumult. Imade no answer, but banged away. 

"'Tom, ' I shouted, at last; 'Tom, get up! Let me in! I want to see you;it's important. Let me in!'

"A voice from a half-opened door informed me that if I did not stop thenoise I should be pitched down the stairs. Still, I banged away atTom's door. There was no response, and I grew sick at heart. 

"Then, just as I was about to go away, a door leading up to the atticopened, and Tom appeared, clad in street clothing--overcoat and all. 

"'What's up?' he inquired, with chattering teeth. 

"'Tom!' I exclaimed, reaching his side at a bound, 'I want to talk withyou. Take me into your place. I'm in trouble. I want to sleep in yourroom with you. Take me in. '

"'Come upstairs, ' he said, calmly. 

"I followed him up to the bare and chilly attic, where he lighted acandle, and offered me a seat--on the floor. I told him my agonizedtale of woe, but he did not show the sympathy I had anticipated; infact, he laughed, softly and long. 

"'You can sleep with me, if you insist, ' he said. 'I've a Persian rugthat will almost cover us both, and I'll share this pillow with you. Then, here's a single portière--not very warm--and two New York_Heralds_ and a Sunday _Times_ that will help out. But, in fact, I'drather not entertain you to-night. I'd rather you'd go out and walk thestreet, or sleep in the Park. I couldn't sleep a wink myself with youalongside of me, and neither could you. '

"'But your room, ' I gasped; 'what's the matter with your room?'

"'I've been turned out of my room, ' he said. 'I'm allowed to sleephere, to-night; and I don't know how it will be to-morrow night--can'ttell. '

"'Well, I'll bunk in with you, here. '

"'No, ' he rejoined, heartlessly; 'on the whole, I don't want you. Getout and walk the street, or try someone else. '

"'Then lend me some money. I'll go to a hotel. '

"'If I had any money, do you think I should be sleeping here, to-night?'

"'I suppose not, ' I sighed. 'Well, I think I'll go. You won't help me?'

"'Not this night, ' he said, grimly. 'Get out! But I don't want you togabble about where you found me sleeping. '

"I left him, deeply grieved by his meanness, which I ascribed to an oldjealousy of the years gone by, when he had been attentive to theunmarried Mrs. Milner, and had found me in his way. I had not thoughthe would have cherished this spite through the years, but, resolvednever to ask a favor again, I left him, and went out into the street. Finally, unable to think of another resource, I sought the nearestsquare, and put in a cold and miserable night on a bench, withvagrants, beggars, and outcasts for company. 

"At daylight, I rose and wandered slowly back toward the studiobuilding, to await the down-coming of my charge. 

"At the door I met a disheveled, weary, and bleary-eyed wreck, who eyedme sourly, and broke forth. 

"'You're a nice sort of duffer, you are, ' he said. 'You knew I wasdrunk. You knew I didn't know what key I gave you. Why didn't you makesure? I couldn't get into my boarding-house. I walked the street allnight. '

"'You did!' I responded. 'You walked the street all night, did you? Oh, I'm so glad! I'm _so_ glad, Bunker! You walked the street, did you?Well, I slept in the square--thanks to your condition, you unholyinebriate!'

"'Where's my key?' he demanded, angrily, 'my boarding-house key? I wantto get in before breakfast-time. '

"'Up in my studio, ' I answered, fully as tartly. 'Go up there and tradekeys; and don't bring any more of your friends around to me. '

"I went to a restaurant, spent my twenty-five cents for breakfast, andthen climbed to the studio. The door was unlocked, but the bird hadflown. 

"I spent a miserable day, doing no work at all, but worrying greatlyover the fate of Mrs. Milner. 

"But, at nightfall, having replenished my pockets from the bank, as Iwas about to leave the building, to take the train for home, I met her, bag and baggage in a cab at the door. 

"Did you ever get a thorough scolding from an angry woman, or, as inthis case, from a good-natured woman pretending to be angry? But, alas!I did not know that she was pretending, and I suffered horribly--on theride to the station and on the train. I was an unfaithful, treacherousscoundrel, leaving a trusting and loving wife alone for a whole week, and giving the use of 'my office'--in which there was a couch and anice-box and a gas-stove and a bath-tub and a clothes-closet (_forhiding purposes_)--to a shameless person with a black-and-blue eye, who had stared at her most insolently when she had come to the door. 

"'I mean to tell your wife, ' Mrs. Milner said, before we had reachedthe Grand Central Station; and she repeated the threat a dozen times, before we arrived at my house. Then, on the walk home, I, who hadmaintained a moody silence all the way, plucked up heart, in the effortto compose myself for the meeting with my wife, and asked her how shehad managed herself. 

"'I, ' she answered, with feminine scorn, 'I was turned away from threehotels, before I finally understood your generous metropolitan hotelrules, which doom traveling women to the police-stations for lodging. Ishould have walked the streets, if I had not met a friend whogenerously took me home with her. '

"'I hope you slept well, ' I ventured, miserably. 

"'I did not! Her apartments were 'way up at the top of a big, highbuilding; and, just as I got to sleep, there was a frightful banging atthe door, and a man--a drunken man, evidently--shouted to be let in. "Tom, " he howled, "Tom, get up! Let me in! I want to see you; it'simportant. Let me in!" Now, of course, there was no "Tom" there, so Ijust lay quiet, frightened to death, however; and, at last, the drunkenbrute went away. But I did not sleep a wink, thanks to you and yourindifference toward my safety, and your devotion to creatures who getblack eyes. Oh, I'll tell your wife! I'll let her know!'

"We were under a street-lamp, and I pulled her to a stop, turning heraround, so that the light shone squarely on her face. 

"'Maud, ' I said, and I shook my forefinger at her, 'you will not tellmy wife. You will be a good and humble young woman during your staywith us; yes, you will. You will be very discreet and very forgiving. If you are not, I shall tell your husband that you spent last night inthe apartments of my friend Tom, your old lover. '

"And did you ever see a woman blush, my boy?--not the blush she puts onat will, but a blush that is genuinely in earnest--a blush she cannothelp. I had my revenge as I watched her blush. She blushed in sevencolors--every color in the spectrum. Then she turned loose on Tom--anhonorable fellow, poor devil, sleeping in that cold garret for hersake--and scourged him for telling me. 

"But I stopped her with the information that I was the drunken brutewho had banged on the door, to which I added the fiction that I hadseen her go in. 

"Well, we patched up a truce before we reached home, and we are goodfriends to-day. Tom married her, after her husband died; and, to thisday, he is somewhat embarrassed in my presence, feeling, no doubt, thatI do not forgive his heartlessness to me on that night. I cannotexplain, and, somehow, his wife will not. I don't know why, unless itis because she has a generous streak in her makeup, and thinks that itwill involve revelations concerning the person with the black eye. "

"And could you not convince Mrs. Milner of the truth of the affair?" Iasked. 

"Tried to--tried hard--but she did not believe me; or, at least, saidshe did not. "

"And did you ever see the interesting widow again?"

"Many times--but she never saw me!"

We smoked, silently--he, straight-faced and reminiscent, I, smilingover the story he had told. 

"May I tell this experience to the girl over yonder?" I asked. 

"Well, yes; but, as I never told my wife, put the girl on her honor notto repeat it. It may help you in your adjustment of your married life;it may convince her that a man can be trusted out of his home. "

THE TRIPLE ALLIANCE

Two men walked side by side down the steps of the Criminal CourtBuilding. They were dressed in "store clothes"; and, while they werealike in type, yet they were unlike: one could not be mistaken for theother. But they had the same facial angle; they were of about the sameage, thirty-five; each was tall, square-shouldered, and erect, and eachhad the same curious gait that betokens long experience in the saddle. The man to the right had gray eyes; the one to the left black. The oneto the right was jubilant of face; the other downcast and chagrined. Asthey reached the sidewalk a man hurried out of the crowd and confrontedthem. His face was perspiring, and he breathed hard. 

"I've got you, Bill!" he said, laying his hand on the shoulder of thedowncast man to the left. "You're my prisoner!"

"Not much, he isn't!" answered the man to the right. "He's mine. Here'sproof. " He half turned, disclosing the butt of a large pistol under hiscoat. 

"Oh, I've got that kind of proof, too, " rejoined the newcomer, steppingback and eying them with anger and disgust in his face. It was a facethat must have been unused to such emotional expressions; it was smoothshaved, pink, and healthy, with keen blue eyes, the face of a man notyet grown up, or of a boy matured before his time. He was of about thesame age, size, and build as the other two, and with the samehorseman's gait. 

"Who are you, " he asked, "and what have you got that man for?"

"I'm Jack Quincy, Deputy Sheriff of Maricopa County, Arizona; and I'vegot this man, Bill Rogers, for stage robbery. Who are you?"

"I'm Walter Benson, of the Northwest Mounted Police, and I want thisman for murder. I've just come from Washington with extradition papers, and I don't see how you can hold him. "

"Possession is nine points of the law in this country, Mr. Benson, and, while I only went to Albany for extradition papers, they're good. Left'em inside with the Judge. "

"I'll contest this case. I've come down from Manitoba for this man. Mychief put the New York police onto him, and he's our meat. Why, man, wewant him for murder, a capital offense!"

"But I've got him for robbing the Wickenburg stage, a capital offense, too. "

While this confab was going on the prisoner had been keenly andfurtively looking about, and had caught the eye of a nearby policeman, then had significantly reached his hand behind him and patted his hippocket while nodding almost imperceptibly toward the disputants. Theofficer summoned another policeman by the same sign language, and atthis juncture they approached. 

"What you two chewin' the rag about?" demanded one, passing his handsrapidly up and down and around the rear clothing of Quincy, while theother as quickly "frisked" Benson. "Got a gun, I see! Got a license?"

"Here's another gun man, " said the second policeman, his hand onBenson's collar. "Got a license?"

"Yes, where's yer license?" repeated the first officer, reaching forQuincy's collar. 

And now a surprising thing happened. First, Bill Rogers, wanted forstage robbery and murder, took to his heels and sped down the street. Then Benson wriggled under the policeman's grasp, and by somelightning-like trick of jiu jitsu, sent him sprawling on his back, hislimbs waving in the air like the legs of a turtle similarly upset. ThenBenson started after Rogers. Quincy tried no jiu jitsu: instead hewhipped out his gun, a long, heavy Colt's forty-five, and jammed itinto the policeman's face before the hand had reached his collar. Involuntarily the officer started back, away from that murderous bluetube, and before he could recover from his surprise Quincy had startedafter Benson. Then the policeman followed Quincy, and his fallencompatriot, picking himself up, followed after; but neither for long;they were fat, and these men of the West could run as well as ride. 

Down Centre Street went the chase, pursued and pursuers bowling overpedestrians who got in the way, dodging in front of and around trolleycars as Rogers led the way diagonally across the street. He turned intothe first cross street and reached Park Row, Benson about a hundredfeet behind, and Quincy as far in the rear of Benson. Across Park Rowwent Rogers, and down the eastern walk to Catharine Street, into whichhe turned, Benson after him, and Quincy keeping Benson in sight. Rogersseemed to know where he was going. He raced down Catharine Street intoCherry, and when halfway to the next corner burst into a small saloon, whose proprietor, a large, beetle-browed man, stood behind the bar. 

"Sailors' boarding-house, isn't it?" panted Rogers. "Hide me and shipme! I've been to sea. North America's too hot for me. "

"Yes, " responded the proprietor, with quick comprehension. "Into thatback room and up the stairs. Hide anywhere. I'll stall the police. "

But before Rogers could reach the back room Benson burst in, his blueeyes flashing with excitement, and in his hand a revolver as large andheavy as Quincy's. 

"Hold on, Bill!" he snapped. "Hands up! I've got a bead on you!"

Rogers halted and turned, his hands over his head and his featuresdrooping in despair. Benson, still covering him, advanced and laid holdof his collar. Then in burst Quincy, also with drawn revolver. 

"Got him, have you? Good enough! I'll take him. "

"Oh, no, you won't, " answered Benson. "He's mine. Possession's ninepoints of the law, you say. " With his hand still on Rogers's collar hecovered Quincy with his weapon. 

Quincy had not raised his; and he stood still, leaning forward, hispistol pointed to the floor, while he glared at Benson. 

"Now, then, stop this!" said the proprietor, sternly, as he leveled abright, nickel-plated revolver at Benson. "Lower that gun--quick! Lowerit--"

Benson saw out of the corner of his eye, and slowly lowered the pistol. 

"You, too, " he said to Quincy, as he looked at him. "Don't you raisethat shootin' iron! I'm boss here. Put 'em both on the bar, handlesfirst, both of you!"

There was deadly earnestness in the big man's voice, and they obeyedhim. Handles first the weapons were placed on the bar. Then Quincysaid:

"You're makin' trouble for yourself. This man is my prisoner, andyou're interfering with an officer. "

"You a p'liceman?" asked the big man, as he placed the weapons underthe bar. 

"I'm Deputy Sheriff of Maricopa County, Arizona. "

"And I'm a member of the Northwest Mounted Police, " said Benson. 

"You're a long way from home, and you've got no friends here. This manhas. He says he's a sailor, and I'm a friend o' sailors. Been onemyself, and I make my livin' off 'em. And when a sailor runs into myplace askin' to hide from anyone, police or not, I'm on his side everytime. "

"He's no sailor, " said Quincy. "He's Bill Rogers, an outlaw I came Eastfor. "

"How about it?" asked the proprietor, turning to Rogers. "You asailor?"

"Have been. Can be again, " answered Rogers calmly. 

"Box the compass. "

"North, nor'-an'-by-east, nor'-nor'east, nor'east-an'-by--"

"That's good. Which side does the main topgallant halyards lead down?"

"Port side. Fore and mizzen to starboard. "

"This man's a sailor, all right. And he's not goin' out o' my placeunder any man's gun, 'less he's a policeman with a warrant. "

"Well, we'll get the policeman with a warrant, " said Quincy, "unlessthis will do. " He drew forth a receipt made out by the clerk of thecourt for extradition papers. 

Benson stiffened up. "Here's something better, " he said: "Extraditionpapers issued by the authorities at Washington. It's a warrant, ifanything is. " He drew forth his evidence of official integrity. 

The big man examined both. "Beyond me, just now, " he commented. "However, I'm not goin' to see a sailor railroaded out o' my place tillI'm sure it's all right. Come into the back room. We'll all have adrink and talk it over. Casey!" he yelled at the top of his voice, andwhen a voice from upstairs answered he added: "Come down here an' tendbar. "

Casey, a smaller edition of the proprietor, appeared, and the three menwere led to the back room, where they seated themselves at a roundtable, while the proprietor himself took their orders. The drinks weresoon served, the big man bringing one for himself, and joining them. 

"Now, then, " he said, lifting his glass, "we'll drink to a good-naturedsettlement o' this job. What's this man done out West?"

They all drank. 

"Robbed the Wickenburg stage of the first cleanup of Jim Mahar's placermine. About ten thousand dollars he got away with. "

"Jim Mahar!" said Benson. "Why, that's the name of the man he murderedin Manitoba. "

"How about it, mate?" said the big man, turning to Rogers. 

"Same man, " he said quietly. "I shot him; but I never robbed him. "

"You didn't?" answered Quincy, derisively. "You were recognized!"

"The mine was mine, and the dust I took I had washed out with my ownhands. He got that mine away from me on a technicality, Quincy, and youknow it. "

"Oh, I know there was some dispute; but that's not my business. I'mhere to take you back, and I've got to do it. "

"What's the use, " said Benson, "if you haven't got a clear case againsthim? Now, I have. He shot Mahar on sight, in the presence of a dozenwitnesses. "

"You mean, " said Rogers, "that I was quickest. He pulled first; but Ibeat him to it, that's all. "

"Well, " said the big proprietor, "we'll have to think on this a little. So, let's do a little thinking. "

They responded to the extent of doing no more talking. Yet it couldhardly be said that they were thinking. A fog closed down on theirfaculties, the room and its fittings grew misty, and in a few momentsBenson's head sagged to the table, Quincy lay back in his chair, andRogers slid to the floor. 

"Casey, " called the big man, and Casey appeared. "You needn't go toSouth Brooklyn for the three men we need for the crew to-morrowmornin'. Here's three. One's a sure sailorman, anxious to ship, and theother two'll do. Get Tom to help you upstairs with 'em and get 'emready. You know the trick. Change their clothes, give 'em a bagfuleach, and dip their hands in that tar bucket, then wipe most of it offwith grease. Get some from the kitchen. "

And so were shanghaied a Deputy Sheriff of Arizona, a member of theNorthwest Mounted Police, and a desperate outlaw and fugitive fromjustice. 

They wakened about ten next morning with throbbing headaches, and cladin greasy canvas rags, each stretched out in a forecastle bunk with abag of other greasy rags for a pillow. Rogers was the first to rollout, and after a blear-eyed inspection of the forecastle, whichincluded the other two, he ejaculated, "Well, I'll be blanked!" Then heshook each into sitting posture, listened to their groaning protests, and sat down on a chest, shaking with silent laughter, while the othertwo resumed the horizontal. 

But he did not laugh long. Certain sounds from on deck indicated thathe would soon be wanted, and certain indications of wintry weather inthe shape of snow flurrying into the forecastle reminded him of hisraiment. He hauled out the clothes bag from his bunk and opened it. Tohis surprise he found, neatly folded, his suit of store clothes; but asthis would not do for shipboard wear he sought farther, and found awarm monkey jacket and guernsey, the property, no doubt, of some sailorwho had died in the boarding-house or run away from his board bill. Healso found a note addressed to Bill Rogers, which he read, and againejaculated, "I'll be blanked!" adding to it, however, the comment, "Asquare boarding master. " Then he punched and felt of the bag'scontents, and smiled. 

Donning the guernsey and jacket, he went on deck just in time to meet abig, bearded man who was hurrying to the forecastle door. 

"So, you've sobered up, have you?" he said. "Got the whisky out o'you?"

"Wasn't whisky, Sir, " answered Rogers, recognizing an officer. "I wasdoped and shanghaied, even though willing to ship. I'm an able seaman, Sir. "

"You don't look it. "

"Fifteen years at sea, Sir, though the last ten ashore. I'm a bittender; but I know my work. "

"How about the other two? Are they sailors?"

"I don't think they are, Sir, " answered Rogers, with a slight grin. "They were with me when I was doped; but I don't know much about them. "

"Go aft and take the wheel. There's a farmer there that can't steer. Let's see what you can do. I'll tend to your friends. "

Rogers went to the wheel, received the spokes and the course from therather distressed incumbent, and, even though the ship was riding alongbefore a stiff quartering breeze and following sea, steered a coursegood enough to win silence from the skipper--another big, beardedman--when he next looked into the binnacle. Silence, on such occasions, is a compliment. 

The cold, fresh breeze soon cleared Rogers's head of its aches andthrobs, and he took stock of the ship and her people. She seemed to beabout twelve hundred tons' register, with no skysails, stunsails, orother kites to make work for her crew, an easy ship, as far as wind andweather were concerned. Rogers counted her crew--sixteen men scatteredabout the decks and rigging, lashing casks, stowing lines and fenders, and securing chafing gear aloft. The big man that had spoken to him wasundoubtedly the first mate, as was evidenced by his louder voice. Thesecond mate, a short, broad, square-jawed man with a smooth face, spokelittle to the men, but struck them often. Rogers saw three flooredbefore six bells. As for the crew, they were of all nations and types, and by these signs he knew that she was an American ship; but nothingyet of her name or destination. Astern was a blue spot on the horizonwhich he recognized as the Highlands of Navesink, and scattered aboutat various distances were out- and in-bound craft, sail and steam. Butnone was within hailing range. 

Just before noon he saw two men thrown out of the forecastle by thehuge first mate, and in spite of their canvas rags he recognized histwo enemies. Involuntarily Rogers smiled; but the smile left his facewhen he saw that they were showing fight, and that in the fight theywere being sadly bested by the mate, aided by his confrère, the secondofficer. Yet they fought as they could, and as the whirl of battledrifted aft Rogers could hear their voices. 

"I want to see the Captain!" they each declared explosively, whenever amoment's respite enabled them to speak, and in time the reiterateddemand bore results. The Captain himself appeared, watched the conflictfor a moment, then roared out:

"Mr. Billings, that'll do! Send those men up here, and let's see whatthey want. "

The two mates stood back, and the disfigured Sheriff of Maricopa andthe almost unrecognizable mounted policeman climbed the poop steps andfaced the Captain in the weather alley. They were game--still full offight, and in no way abashed by the autocrat of the ship. 

"You the Captain o' this boat?" demanded Quincy, his eyes flaming greenfrom the rage in his soul. "If you are, put me ashore, or I'll make yousweat!"

"Steady as you go, " answered the Captain, quietly. "I'm too big a manto sweat. It's dangerous to make me sweat. What's on your mind?"

"Put us ashore!" yelled Benson, insanely. "Those fellows that hammeredus just now said we shipped in this boat. We did not. We were druggedand abducted. "

"Whew!" whistled the big skipper, turning his back on them for themoment. Then he turned back and said, "What d'you want?"

"To go ashore and take our prisoner with us. We'll settle betweenourselves as to which one gets him. "

"Your prisoner? Where is he?"

"That fellow standing there--steering, I suppose, " answered Quincy. 

The skipper turned toward Rogers. "You a prisoner?" he asked, with thegood humor coming of size and self-confidence. 

"I'm wanted, Sir, " said Rogers, grimly, "in Arizona and in Manitoba. These men are what they say, officers of the law. "

"What crime have you committed?"

"None, Sir, " answered Rogers; "though I'm indicted in one place forstage robbery and in the other place for murder. "

"Well, well!" commented the big man. "You seem to be a dangerouscharacter. What are you doing aboard my ship?"

"These fellows chased me, and I went to a boarding master to get aship. They followed and were shanghaied with me--though I do not seewhy he drugged me, Sir; I was willing to ship. "

"But did you, " demanded the skipper, his voice growing tense andforceful, "rob a stage and kill a man, somewhere in the West?"

"I robbed a stage of what I owned--my own gold-dust. I killed the manwho thought I robbed him; but he pulled his gun first, and I shot inself-defense. "

"And I've come all the way from Arizona, " interrupted Quincy, "to bringthis man back for trial. And--I want him!"

"And I've come from Manitoba, " added Benson, "where he's wanted formurder. "

The skipper turned to Rogers and said calmly, "By your own admissionyou are a fugitive from justice; hence, entitled to no sympathy fromme. " Then he turned to the two others and said, "You men put up aplausible story of being shanghaied. If you told it at the dock where Icould get two men to replace you, I might put you ashore. As it is, fifty miles outside of Sandy Hook, I can do nothing of the kind. Thisship's time is valuable, worth about a hundred dollars a day, and Ican't stop to signal and put you aboard an inbound craft. You're signedon my articles--John Quincy and Walter Benson; though I don't knowwhich is which. But the fact is that here you stay, and you work, andearn your grub and what pay I choose to put you on. "

"But we did not agree, " yelled Quincy. "You have no warrant in law forthis procedure. "

"I have my articles. I did not ship you, as I was not in the shippingoffice; but I bargained with a crimp for sixteen men, and he gave mefourteen and you two. "

"Well, " said Quincy, quietly, "you seem to be in power here, andresponsible to no one that we can reach. But I'll tell you that theState of Arizona will swarm about your ears, and that you'll sweat, bigas you are!"

"And I'll tell you, " spoke up Benson, "that the Secretary of State atWashington will hear from the Governor General at Ottawa!"

"Get out o' this!" exploded the Captain. "Get off the poop, youfour-legged farmers! Sweat, will I? All right; but you'll sweat, theboth of you, before you see your friends again! Here, Mr. Billings, " heroared to the first mate amidships, "and Mr. Snelling! Come up here, and turn these men to!"

The two mates answered and appeared. 

"Turn them to, " said the Captain, speaking slowly and softly. "Take thestarch out of 'em, and make 'em sweat. "

The scene that ensued was too painful even for Rogers to witness ordescribe, except in its salient points. Billings and Snelling pouncedupon the two insurgents, struck, buffeted, kicked, and vilified themwith foul-mouthed abuse, until they had borne them off the poop, forward along the main deck, and to the vicinity of the forecastle, where the two victims, subdued and quiescent, were willing to dart forcover, when the two mates gave over and went aft. 

Rogers at the wheel had watched the scene, at first with a smile; butthe smile grew less as he saw the battered men hurled right and leftunder the blows of the mates, and when at last the punishment was endedhis face was serious and resentful. Some criminals do not lose thequalities of forgiveness and mercy. His mood was increased when the bigskipper faced him and said:

"A fugitive from justice, are you? Well, I'll see that the Consul atMelbourne gets you. I want no jailbirds in my ship. "

Which gave Rogers occasion to think. 

Rogers was relieved at one bell (half-past twelve), and went forward tohis dinner. As he descended the poop steps he met the big first mate, coming out of the forward companion picking his teeth. 

"So, " he said to Rogers, "you're a bad man from the West, I hear. Heldup a stage and then killed the man you robbed!"

"You've got things wrong, Sir, " answered Rogers respectfully. 

"None o' your lip!" thundered the officer. "You may be a bad man fromthe West; but I'm a bad man from the East, and I'm here to take thebadness out o' bad men!"

Then, before Rogers could dodge, he launched forth his fist and struckhim. The blow knocked him off his feet, and he rose with nose bleedingand eyes closing. 

"Just to show you, " commented the mate, "that I'm a badder man thanyou. "

Rogers did not answer; in fact, no answer was necessary or wise. Hewalked forward, and, partly from his half-blindness, partly from hisdisorganized state of mind, passed to windward of Snelling, the secondmate, who was coming aft to dinner. Snelling said nothing in the way ofprelude, but crashed his fist on Rogers's already mutilated face, andsent him again to the deck. As Rogers struggled to his feet he said:

"You pass to looward o' me when we meet, or I'll make you jumpoverboard!"

And again Rogers saw the wisdom of silence and went on to theforecastle. 

The watches had not yet been chosen; but half the crew had eaten, andhe joined the other half, finding in his clothes bag a new sheath knifeand belt, a tin pan, pannikin, and spoon, which articles are alwaysfurnished to a shipped man by the boarding masters, no matter how hehas been shipped. To his surprise, as he attacked the dinner, he foundQuincy and Benson, each with a similar outfit of tinware, toying withthe food, and paying no attention to the polyglot discourse of theother men regarding the ship, the mates, and the food. But they glaredmenacingly at Rogers as he entered. 

"This your work, Rogers?" demanded Quincy. "Were you in cahoots withthat saloonkeeper?"

"Shut up!" answered Rogers, stabbing at a piece of salt beef with hisknife. 

"We won't shut up!" said Benson, spooning up pea soup with his brandnew tin spoon. "This increases your sentence to the extent of a shortershrift. "

"Go to the devil, the pair of you! I was doped and shanghaied myself, and I've run foul o' the mates, same as you did--and for less reason, too. "

"Well, they'll sweat for this, and you, too, Rogers!" said Quincy. 

"Shut up! You're up against something now that gunplay doesn't figurein. You're aboard a Yankee hell ship, and you've got to make the bestof it. "

"I wouldn't if I had my gun, " said Quincy, moodily. 

"Yes, " added Benson, "with a gun I could have my own way. "

Rogers straightened back, looked them steadily in their faces, andsaid, "If you had your guns, what would you do?"

"Make this ship put back and land us, " answered Quincy. 

"Benson, " said Rogers, "what would you do with a gun?"

"Shoot 'em full of holes until they turned this boat back. "

"Are you game?" said Rogers. "Understand that you'll be alone. Iwouldn't help you; for, having been a sailor, I know what mutiny meansin the courts. I'd rather go back with either of you to stand trialthan to engage in open mutiny. "

"Hang your mutiny!" said Quincy. "We're not sailors; we never agreed tomake this voyage. I'm an officer of the law. "

"Feel the same way, Benson?" asked Rogers. 

"The same. Give me a gun, and I'll make that Captain and his twoassistants walk a chalkline. "

The rest of the men, engaged with their dinner, had paid no attentionto this discourse, and Rogers rose up, reached into his bag, andproduced the note he had found there on wakening. "Listen, " he said:

 "'BILL ROGERS:--You seem to be a square fellow and up against it. I had to dope you because you would not have signed if you knew the other two would have gone along. But I needed just three men; so I doped you all. You'll find their guns and belts in your bag. Of course, you will know what to do if you get in trouble. Good luck. '

"Now, " said Rogers, "those guns are not now in my bag, and you can'tfind them without my say-so; but, if I put you onto them, will you callit off? Will you let up, and go back reporting that I had escaped? Ifyou get ashore by any means, will you take me with you and turn meloose?"

They each looked steadily at Rogers for a moment or two; then Quincyspoke. 

"If you can furnish me my gun, Bill, it's all off. I'll resign my job, if necessary; but I won't hunt you any more. "

"Benson?" asked Rogers. 

"The Canadian Mounted Police and the whole Colonial Government can gohang. Give me a gun, Rogers, and I'll trouble you no more!"

Rogers was about to speak, when the big first mate appeared at theforecastle door, and said in the forceful manner of deep-water mates:

"Turn to. Where's that bloody-minded stage robber? Hey! Here you are!Get aft to the wheel again. You can steer, if you are a murderer. "

"All right, Sir, " answered Rogers, deferentially, and then, in awhisper to the two, he said, "In my bag, halfway down. Two guns and twobelts. "

Then Bill Rogers, desperado, outlaw, and fugitive from justice, went tothe wheel, and as he steered he smiled again, grimly and painfully, forhis nose hurt. 

Billings had followed him aft, up on the poop, and to the vicinity ofthe after companion, where he stood, waiting for the Captain. Snelling, having finished his dinner, had gone forward to oversee the men, all ofwhom were now on deck and scattering to their various tasks. That is, all but two. Quincy and Benson, each one girdled with a beltful ofcartridges, each carrying a heavy revolver, each scowling wickedly, were marching up to Snelling. 

"Hands up!" said Quincy, sternly. "Up with 'em and go back to the otherend of the boat!"

Involuntarily, it seemed, the second mate obeyed. Up went his handsover his head. Then, remembering that he was second mate, he answered, "What's this? Mutiny! Put them guns down!"

Quincy's gun spat out a red tongue, and Snelling's cap left his head. 

"Next time I'll aim lower, " said Quincy. "Right about face! March!"

Snelling was impressed. With his hands aloft he wheeled and precededthem to the poop steps, up which he climbed. 

But Billings had noticed, and acted. With a shout down the companion tothe Captain, he whipped out a pocket revolver and hurried forward inthe alley to meet the procession. But he did not use that revolver. Benson took quick aim and fired, and coincident with the report thenickel-plated weapon left his hand, whirling high in air before fallingoverboard. Billings whinnied in pain, and, rubbing his benumbed hand, backed aft before the advancing Snelling. 

Then, up the companion on a run, came the Captain, a fat cigar in hismouth and a look of wonder and astonishment on his face. Benson andQuincy were now in the alley, and again a pistol spoke--Quincy's, thistime--and the fat cigar left the Captain's mouth in two pieces. 

"Hands up, all three of you, " yelled Quincy, "or we'll shoot to kill!Found out, haven't you, that we can shoot--some? That's our trade. Upwith your hands!"

Both Captain and mate raised their hands, but the former protested. 

"This is mutiny, you scoundrels! D'you know the penalty? Ten years!"

"It won't be ten minutes, " answered Quincy. "Call it what you like, mutiny, burglary, or pistol practice. But I'll tell you what it surewill be, if you don't come to time. It'll be a pig killing, andjustifiable manslaughter in the courts. I know something about law, andI've got you for abduction. A man abducted has a right to defendhimself, and I'll kill you if you don't head this boat for land and putus ashore. "

"Yes, " added Benson, "and we'll take our prisoner with us, too!"

"Sure, " said Quincy. "Bill Rogers goes, too. Come, now, what do yousay?"

"I say, by Gawd, " roared the Captain, red in the face with rage and thestrain on his muscles, "that I won't! If this ship goes back, you'lltake her back yourself, with me and my mates under duress. It's ruinousto agree to such a proposition. I'd lose this ship and never getanother. "

"Very well, " said Quincy, quietly. "Then we'll put you fellows underarrest. And if you resist we'll shoot you to pieces. Rogers, " he turnedto the smiling helmsman, "can you steer this boat back to the UnitedStates?"

"I can't find New York, " answered Rogers; "but the United States is duewest. "

"Can you steer due west?"

"Yes; but the yards must be braced. The wind is hauling to the north, and we could make a fair wind of it. "

"Can you attend to this--bracing of the yards?"

"Yes. I've been second mate. "

"Right, Benson, go through them all and take away their guns, if theyhave any!" Then he raised his voice and called forward to the men, whohad stopped work and were watching curiously the strange scene on thepoop. "One of you fellows get a piece of small rope cord. Bring it uphere and tie these fellows' hands behind their backs. "

While Benson searched the pockets of the trio--finding no weapons, however--a man had secured a ball of spun yarn from the booby hatch andran up the poop steps with it. Then, under the influence of those long, blue tubes, the Captain and the two mates lay down on their faces, while the sailor securely bound their wrists behind them. 

"Now, then, " said Quincy, "you're in command, Rogers. We'll police thisboat, and make these men obey all your orders. "

"Take the wheel here!" said Rogers to the sailor. "Stand by to wearship!" Then he mounted the cabin, and emitted a sailorly yell to thecrew. "All hands down from aloft! Weather main and lee crowjackbraces!"

 * * * * *

In the dawn of the following morning some early rising fishermen of theJersey coast saw a black ship with all canvas set resting quietly onthe sands about two hundred yards from the beach, a white boat, emptyof everything but oars, hauled out above high-water mark, and onboarding the ship they found and released three chilled, hungry, andangry men from the lazaret. But not a sign of her crew did they see. 

SHOVELS AND BRICKS

Mr. John Murphy, boarding master, was on bad terms with himself. He hadbeen kicked off the poop-deck of Captain Williams's big ship, the_Albatross_, lying off Tompkinsville, waiting to dock, thence to thegangway, and from there shoved, struck in the face, and further kickedand maltreated until he had flopped into the boat at the foot of thesteps. Williams was a six-footer, a graduate "bucko" now in charge ofthis big skysail-yarder, and he had resented Murphy's appearance onboard with whisky and kind words for his men before he was through withthem. Not caring to dock his ship with the help of riggers at fivedollars a day, he had called Murphy aft, lectured him on the ethics andproprieties of seafaring, and then had punished him for an indiscreetreference to the rights of boarding masters who must needs solicitboarders in order to make a living. All that Murphy could do under thecircumstances was to shout up from the boat his defiance of CaptainWilliams, and a threat to prevent his getting a new crew when ready tosail--which was clearly within his power as a member of the Associationof Boarding and Shipping Masters. But Williams, red-bearded, angry-faced, and victorious, replied with injunctions to descend to theinfernal regions and remain there, and Murphy pulled ashore and tookthe boat to New York, bent upon vengeance. 

At the door of his boarding-house in Front Street he met Hennesey, hisrunner. Hennesey was a small man, sly, shrewd, and persuasive, and sofar had given satisfaction in the difficult business of solicitingincoming crews to board at Murphy's house instead of the Sailors' Home, the Provident Seamen's Mission, and other like institutions. ButMurphy's mood was strong upon him, and he asked, peremptorily:

"Well, what did ye git?"

"Nothin'; the Mission launch wuz on hand and the bunch wint in a body. "

"Dom yer soul, what do I pay ye fur, anyhow?" stormed Murphy. "Are yeno good? Tell me thot. Are ye no good at all? What are ye takin' mymoney fur?"

"To git sailors to come to yer house on commission, " retorted Hennesey, hotly; "an' fur fear I'd be makin' too much, ye sind me to a bloodycoaster, whose min are in the union, while you go down to the_Albatross_, in from deep water. "

"I got no wan from the _Albatross_. "

"No fault o' yours or mine. I'd ha' got 'em. "

"None o' yer shlack. "

"To hill wi' ye. "

"Ye're discharged. Come in an' I'll pay ye off. "

"Right ye are. From this on I'll work fur mesilf and git your business, ye skin. "

Hennesey's estimate of Murphy was not far wrong, though it might alsoapply to himself. The profits of a sailors' boarding-house depend notupon the cash paid in by men with money, who choose their own ship andcome and go as they please, but upon the advance or allotment of paywhich the law allows to deep-water seamen in order that they maypurchase an outfit of clothing before sailing. To get this allotment, Murphy and others of his kind would take in and feed any pennilesssailor long enough to run up an inflated bill for board, money lent, and clothing, then find him a ship and walk him to the shipping-office, more or less drugged or drunk. Here the penniless sailor dared not, even if suspicious, contest the claim, for, should he do so, he wouldfind himself not only out of a ship, but out of a boarding-house; so hewould sign away his allotment, and go aboard with what clothing hisbenefactor had allowed him. As deep-water men on shore are invariablydrunk, drugged, or penniless, the boarding-masters, to whom theskippers must apply for men, easily control the situation. And, asmachinery for such control, nearly all boarding-houses have the frontground floor divided into barroom and clothing-store, while in the rearis the dining-room and upstairs the bedrooms, each with as many beds asthere is room for. Thus, a man may be housed, fed, clothed, drugged, and shipped from the same address. The remedy for this has no place inthis story. 

A boarding-master, or crimp, without the machinery, becomes ashipping-master, a go-between between the skipper and theboarding-master, whose income is the blood-money paid by skippers formen. Murphy, strolling along South Street a few days later, saw a newsign over a doorway--Timothy Hennesey, Shipping-Master. He ascended thewooden stairs, and in a dingy room with one desk and chair found hisformer aid. 

"Well, what the hill is this, Hennesey--tryin' to take the brid out ofhonest min's mouths?"

"I've me livin' to make, Murphy, an' I'm a-doin' it. I got the crew ofthe _Albatross_. "

"An' what did ye do wid 'em?"

"Put 'em wid Stillman, over beyant. Ye might ha' had 'em had ye playedfair. "

Stillman was Murphy's most important rival, and the news did not cheerhim. He glared darkly at Hennesey. 

"An' I've got the shippin' o' Williams's new crew whin he sails, "continued Hennesey, "an' I'll not go to you for 'em, Murphy. "

"Ye'll not?" responded Murphy, luridly. "After all the wark I've givenye. "

"I'll not. I told ye I'd git yer business, an' I'll do it. "

Murphy's fist shot out and Hennesey went down. Arising with bleedingnose, he shook his small fist at his chuckling assailant passingsidewise out of his door. 

"I'll not forgit thot, John Murphy, " he spluttered. 

"I don't want ye to. Remember it while ye live; an' there's more wherethot cum from, too, ye scab. "

At a meeting of the brotherhood that evening, Murphy posted the name ofTimothy Hennesey, scab, and Captain Williams, outlaw; then, somewhateasier in his mind, took account of the immediate business situation. It was bad; he had three cash boarders, of no use when their money wasgone, as they signed in coasters, and there was but one ship in port, the _Albatross_, and none expected for a fortnight. So, leavingorders with his wife to watch the cash register in the bar, and toevict the boarders when they asked for trust, he took the train forChicago, where lived a prosperous brother, for whom he had a sincereregard, and to whom he owed a long-promised visit. Brother Mikewelcomed him, and under the softening influence of brotherly love heforgave Hennesey, but not Williams. It is so much easier to warm towarda fellow man you have punched than toward one who has punched you. 

Mike took John down to his coal-docks, with which he was amassing afortune, and explained their workings. A schooner lay at one, and hisgang was unloading her. It was a cold day in November, and their warmovercoats felt none too warm; yet down in the hold of the schooner weremen bare to the waist, black as negroes with coal dust, save where theperspiration cleared white channels as it ran down their backs andbreasts--keeping themselves warm with the violence of their exertions. There were two to each of the three hatches; and there were six otherson the dock runway, wheeling the coal away; they had nearly unloadedthe schooner, having cleared away the coal directly under the hatch, and were now loading their buckets at the two piles farther back, between the hatches. These buckets stood as high as their waists, andheld, according to Brother Mike, five hundred pounds when full. But aman, having filled it to the brim, would seize the bale and drag italong the flooring to the hatch, unhook a descending bucket, hook onthe full one, sing out an inarticulate cry, and drag the empty back tothe coal to be filled in its turn--all with a never-lessening displayof extravagant muscular force. 

"Heavens! what wark!" said John, as they peered down the hatch. "An'how long do they kape this up?"

"Tin hours a day, and not a minute longer, " answered Mike; "that is, barrin' fifteen minutes at tin in the mornin' and three in theafternoon, whin they knock off for a bite and a drink up at me place onthe corner. They go up and ate up me free lunch and soak in about apint of whisky at one drink. "

"The divil! and don't it kill thim?"

"Naw. They come back and sweat it out. They couldn't wurruk like thiswidout it. "

"It's great work, Mike. Look at the devilopment. Did ye iver see aprize-fighter with such muscles?"

"A prize-fighter!" said Mike. "Jawn Murphy, luk at them. They're allsizes, big and little, in my two gangs; but give the littlest a month'strainin' in the science o' boxin' and he'd lick any heavyweight in thewurruld. Ye see, ye simply can't hurt 'em. "

"Can't hurt 'em?"

"Ye can't hurt 'em. They're not human. They're wild beasts. They comefrom the hills and bogs of Limerick and Galway, and they can't speakthe language, but call themselves Irishmin. Well, Jawn, they're Irish, mebbe, as the American Injun's an American; but they're not like youand me, dacent min from Dublin. "

"But if they can't speak the language, how do ye git on wid 'em?"

"Once in a while, when they're cool and tranquil, I get on to a word ortwo, but usually I fall back on moral suasion and the sign language. "

"Moral suasion?"

"I swear at 'em. And thin, whin that fails, I use the sign language. That's good in talkin' to any foreigner, Jawn. "

"But what is it, the sign language?"

"A brick. See this, Jawn?" Mike held up one side of his coat, and Johnfelt of an oblong protuberance in the right-hand pocket. "I carry abrick at all times, Jawn, for it's the only thing that appeals to theirsinsibilities. I used to carry a club, but it didn't wurruk; they'd getback at me wid their shovels, and it's domned inconvanient, Jawn, to besliced up wid a shovel. So, I carry a brick. "

"Do they git that way often?"

"Yis; it's their natural condition. They'd rather fight than ate, and Idon't dare hire a man from another county in one gang, for fear they'llkill him; so this is the Galway gang, and up the dock a bit is theLimerick gang, twilve min to each. They're all alike, but think they'redifferent, so I have to be careful. But, while they'd rather fight thanate, they'd rather wurruk than fight, and that's where I come in. Ikape 'em apart, and stir up their jealousy. Each gang 'll wurruk likehill to bate the other. "

"And what do ye pay thim?"

"By the job. They stick to factory hours, and won't wurruk overtime, but at tin hours a day they make about eight dollars. "

"The divil! But that's big pay. "

"Yis; but I have to pay it, for no other class o' min can do thewurruk. Why, it 'ud kill an American or a Dootchman!"

"They must have money saved up. "

"All that they don't spind at me bar up on the corner. They have tosave some, for in the nature o' things I can't git it all back. Andthey're all goin' back to the old sod whin navigation closes--in abouttwo weeks. This'll be about their last job. "

"They'll come to New York and take passage, I suppose. "

"Yis; and I'll have to buy their tickets and ship thim. They don't knowmuch about American money, and wid a new man I have to pay him inEnglish money at first, until he finds it's no good; thin I exchange ata discount. "

"Fine, Mike; ye'll be rich before long. "

"That I will, if the supply of bog-trottin' savages holds out. "

At this juncture one of the men in the hold lifted his sootycountenance and, with the vehemence of a lunatic, delivered this:

"Whythilldonye'veaharseut'lldothwark?"

"Dry up, " said Mike, pulling the brick from his pocket. "Dry up or I'llhurt yer feelin's. "

The man shrank back out of sight, and Mike put the brick back in hispocket. 

"What did he say?" queried John. 

"He objicts to the speed o' the harse on the dock. He can fill buckets, ye see, faster than the harse can h'ist 'em. That's what ails him. "

"And he's afraid o' the brick?"

"Yis; but o' nothin' else. Thim fellers don't fear a gun, so I don'tcarry one. Why, a while back, there was a bad time at the corner whinthe two gangs got mixed up, and the police cum down. They used theirguns, but--hill! the bullets just punctured their skins, and theypicked thim out wid their fingers and wint for the coppers and donethim up. I tell ye, Jawn, that a wild Irishman, frish from the bogs andthe hills, can outwork, outfight, and outeat any man alive. "

"Outeat?"

"I give thim mate three times a day. If it wuzn't for the profits o'the bar, it wud brek me. And, say, Jawn, they can't say 'mate' whinthey ask for more. They say 'mate. '"

"'Mate'? And can't they say 'mate, ' whin they ate it so much?"

"No, Jawn, they sing out for mate. It's no use; they can't spake thelanguage, and it's no use t'achin' thim. They're good min towurruk--all bone and sole leather, but ye can't refine thim. "

"You can't, Mike, but I kin. "

"How, ye skeptic? Luk at 'em. Scratch 'em, and they won't bleed. Shoot'em, and they'll pick out the bullets and paste ye wid 'em. Reason wid'em, and they'll insult ye. Refine 'em, Jawn! Ye're crazy. Luk at thotfelly down there under the hatch. He's here on his weddin' trip, but helift his wife behind in the old country. "

"That makes no difference, " answered John, ruminatively; "I can refine'em. Make sure, Mike, that whin they come to New York they come to myhouse in Front Street. I'll feed 'em mate three times a day again' thetime they take the ship for the old sod. I'll be good to thim, Mike. Send thim to me. "

"Ay, John, I will thot. But ye'll nade to square yerself wid yerbutcher in advance if ye think to feed thim wolfs. They're hungry andthey're thirsty be nature. "

"Never mind. Send thim on, both factions. I'll take care o' thim. They're a fine lot o' min, and I'll be good to 'em. "

John verified Mike's description of them when they met, both gangs, attheir afternoon recess in Mike's barroom. They conversed in shouts andwhoops, uttering words that, while they bore a slight resemblance toEnglish, were in the main unintelligible. Murphy endeavored to findthose whose sole-leather flesh had stopped a bullet, but could not. However, digging his fingers into the breasts and shoulders of a few ofthe quietest convinced him that the story could not be far wrong. Thestiffened muscles felt like bones. 

He treated them all, and was glad, when he saw them drink, that he hadnot promised them free whisky at his house; but he reiterated hispromise of "mate" three times a day, and secured their promise to boardat his house while waiting for sailing-day. This done, he finished hisvisit and returned to New York. 

His first task was to estimate the business situation; it was the same, except that his boarders had gone at the request of Mrs. Murphy. Thiswas good, almost as good as the news that Williams's old crew hadscattered and that there was not a deep-water man in port to aidHennesey in his first job in the shipping business. He cautiouslyhunted for Hennesey, meeting him by accident, as he said, in the streetat daytime, safe from possible bricks or clubs coming out of the dark. 

"And how are ye, Tim?" he said, exuberantly, as he extended his hand. 

"So so, " answered Hennesey, ignoring the greeting and eying his lateemployer suspiciously. "And how is it wid you?"

"Fine, Hennesey, fine. In a week I'll have as fine a crew of min in mehouse as iver ye laid eyes on. Lake sailors, every wan o' thim. AndI'll be after havin' to find thim a ship. "

"That's easier than to find the min, " said Hennesey, still watching fora sudden demonstration of Murphy's fist. "I'll be goin' to Philadelphy, I think, or Boston. "

"And it'll cost ye a hundred, Hennesey. I've done it. It takes a coolhundred to bring a crew on from either port. Don't be a fule, Hennesey. I'm domned sorry I slugged ye. I wuz put out, ye see, but I felt badabout it nixt day. I can't deal wid Williams, the dog, but I can widyou, and you can wid him. "

"Speak up. What do ye want, John Murphy?"

"That we git together, Hennesey, for our mutual advantage. Give up thisidee of gittin' me business away from me. Ye can't do it. I'm too wellestablished, and the only skipper I've blacklisted is Williams, andhe's all ye've got. "

"What do I git out of it?"

"Ye git your blood-money from Williams, widout huntin' up yer min. Igit the allotment agin' the expense I'm put to in feedin' thim. Theregular thing, except thot ye make more than ye would as a runner--onlyye've got to muster 'em into the shippin'-office and sign 'em. I can'tappear. Williams might be there, and cold-deck the deal. "

"Murphy, gimme me job back and I'm wid ye. But I want me priveleges--adrink whin I nade it, and access to the bar for me frinds. "

"Right, Hennesey; let bygones be bygones. Put this job through asshippin'-master, and thin go on wid me as runner. Shake hands. "

They shook, Murphy joyous and forgiving, Hennesey cold, suspicious, andunforgiving. A handshake is a poor auditing of a fist blow. 

"Whin does Williams want his min?" asked Murphy. 

"In two weeks, about. Twinty-four able seamen. "

"Thot's good. I'll have to feed 'em a week, and thot's dead loss; butI'll be contint; yes, I'll be contint, Hennesey, if I can furnishWilliams wid the right kind of a crew, God d--bliss him!"

"Ye're gittin' religion, are ye not?" asked Hennesey. "I heard heslugged ye around decks and bundled ye down into yer boat. '"

"Yes"--and Murphy's eyes shone--"but thot's all past, Hennesey. I'm notthe man to hold a grudge. Ye know thot. "

"But I am, " muttered Hennesey, as they parted. 

And thus did Murphy plan his dark vengeance upon Captain Williams. Itwent through without a hitch; the twenty-four wild men from Galway andLimerick, shipped on by Brother Mike, arrived at Murphy's house in afew days, and were housed and fed--"mate" with every meal--to thescandal of Mrs. Murphy, who averred that she "niver seed such min. "

"Fur they have no table manners, John, " she said. "What's the usegivin' thim knives and forks, whin they don't know how to use thim?Foor o' thim cut their mouths. "

"Niver mind, Norah, " said Murphy, kindly. "Give thim spoons; for aspoon is like a shovel, ye know, and they're accustomed to shovels. Andgive 'em bafe stew and mashed praties. "

"I'll give 'em rat pizen, if I have to sarve 'em much longer, "responded the good lady. "I was a silf-respictin' woman before Imarried you, John Murphy, and didn't have to consort wid lunatics. "

"Niver mind, Norah, " answered Murphy, soothingly. "I'll be rid o' thimin a few days, and ye'll have a new driss out o' the proceeds. "

The proceeds were secured. Murphy collected a week's board in advancefrom each, and induced them to deposit their money with him forsafe-keeping. Then he got them drunk on his tried and true whisky, andkept them so; then he collected ten dollars from each for a ticket toQueenstown on the ship which would sail in a few days; and then heaudited an account for each, charging them with money advanced as theyasked for it. As he always trebled the amount that they asked for, andas they were too drunk and befuddled to contest the word of so good andkind a man, Murphy had a tidy sum due him when the allotments weresigned. 

This happened in due time and form. Captain. Williams, knowing byexperience that no crew would sign with him if he showed himself, remained away from the shipping-office and took his ship down to theHorseshoe with the help of his two mates, cook, steward, and a tug, leaving his articles in the care of Hennesey, and trusting to him tosign the crew and bring them down in the tug that would tow him outpast the light-ship. 

Hennesey did his part. As the _Albatross_ was bound for Liverpool _viâ_Queenstown in ballast, there was only part deception in walking thetwenty-four to the shipping-office to sign their names (or marks) onthe ship's articles, which they cheerfully did, under the impressionthat it was a necessary matter of form connected with their purchase oftickets; and while the Shipping Commissioner marveled somewhat at thehilarity and the ingenuous self-assertiveness of this crew ofsailormen, he forebore to express himself, and left the matter toCaptain Williams and Providence. So, with all their allotment oradvance signed away to Murphy against the entertainment they hadreceived, and with their pockets depleted from their sublime trust inMurphy's bookkeeping, they went back to the boarding-house, the signedslaves of Bucko Bill Williams, a man they had not met. 

It was a wild night, that last night in the boarding-house. The Galwaysand the Limericks got to fighting, and only Murphy's "pull" with thepolice prevented a raid. Mrs. Murphy quit the scene early in theevening, going back to her mother with unkind comments on the companythat Murphy kept, and Murphy, with a brick in his pocket, and sometimesin his hand, was busy each minute in settling a dispute between thisman and that. At last he and Hennesey agreed that it was time to quietthem; so Hennesey, behind the bar, filled twenty-four pint flasks, eachwith a moderate addition of "knockout drops, " and with much flourish oforatory brought the crowd up to the bar for a last drink and thepresentation of the flasks. The drinks were also seasoned, and soonMurphy and Hennesey had a long hour's work in lifting the twenty-fourable seamen up to the bedrooms, to sleep until the express wagons cameto take them and their dunnage to the tug. They came at ten o'clock, and the unconscious men were carried down with their grips and boxes, and loaded in like so many bags of potatoes. 

"It's done, Hennesey, " said Murphy, as, perspiring and fatigued, hefetched back into the barroom. "Now, Hennesey, let's you and me have adrink, and we'll drink to the health and the happiness of Bucko BillWilliams, the dog. "

"Right, " said Hennesey, going behind the bar and bringing out thebottle and the glasses; "but we'll need to hurry, Murphy, for I've gotto go down wid the tug, ye know. " As he spoke he passed his hand overthe glass he had placed for Murphy, and Murphy, glancing out throughthe door at the departing express wagons, did not see. 

But Hennesey had another express wagon in reserve, and when Murphysagged down and sought the nearest chair and table, too stupefied toeven wonder at his sleepiness, Hennesey called this wagon from thecorner and, with the help of the driver, bundled Murphy into it, climbed in himself, and rode down to the dock and the waiting tug. 

 * * * * *

It was broad daylight when Murphy woke, in a forecastle bunk, with adull, dragging pain in his head which he knew from experience was theafter effects of a drug. He rolled out, noticing that each bunk held asleeping man, and, examining a few, recognized his boarders. The planhad succeeded, but why was he there? Then he remembered that lastdrink, and calling down silent curses upon Hennesey, went out on deck. 

The big ship was plowing along before the wind with not a rag setexcept the foretopmast-staysail and jib. Amidships was a man coiling upropes, at the wheel was another man, and pacing the top of theafter-house was Captain Williams, red-bearded, red-eyed, and truculentof gesture and expression. These three bore marks of hard usage, bruises, black eyes, swollen noses, and contusions. Murphy climbed theforecastle deck and looked astern. The land was a thin line of blue onthe horizon. 

He descended and went aft. The man coiling ropes, whom Murphy learnedlater was the first mate, looked furtively at him as he passed, andturned in his tracks so as not to show him his back. Murphy judged thathe was nervous over something that had happened--something connectedwith his injuries. Climbing the poop steps, he was stopped by CaptainWilliams, who descended from the house and faced him. 

"Well, Murphy, what the hell are _you_ doing here? Are you in on thisdeal?"

"What deal, Captain?" asked Murphy, meekly, for it was no place forself-respect. 

"This deal I got from your discharged runner, Hennesey. I only dealtwith the fellow because he told me he had quit you. And look at what hegave me for a crew--twenty-four wild Micks that, let alone the ropes, can't speak English or understand it. Are you a party to this trick, Murphy?"

"I'm not, " declared Murphy, stoutly. "The domned villain doped me lastnight, and must ha' put me aboard wid the crew he shipped for you. Whatfor, I don't know. He had yer full count, as he told me. "

"Guess you're the man he hoisted up himself, saying you were willing towork your passage without pay. So I let you come and sleep it off. "

"He did!" stormed Murphy, "the dirty, ungrateful dog! I took him in andgave him wark, and I took him back after I'd discharged him. And now Igit this! O' course, Captain, ye'll put me aboard the first ship memeet bound in. "

"Not much, I won't. If you took Hennesey back you're in on this deal. "

"I'm not in it. Where's Hennesey now, Captain Williams?"

"Went back in the tug, I suppose. He didn't stop to get his receiptsigned for the men he delivered. So, he gets no money for this kind ofa crew. They're not sailors, and he loses. Moreover, Murphy, you lose. Hennesey brought me the articles, and every man Jack o' them signed hisallotment over to you as favored creditor. That means that Hennesey gotthis bunch out of your house. As they're not sailors, I mean to disratethem to boys at five dollars a month. That's the allotment you get, ifyou care to sue for it; but I told the tug captain to notify the ownersto pay no allotment notes. "

"Ye did?" spluttered Murphy. "Well, Williams, I'll sue, don't ye fear. I'll sue. "

"That's as may be, " said Williams, coldly. "Meanwhile, you'll singsmall, do what you're told, and work your passage; and any time thatyou forget where you are, call on me and I'll tell you. "

"Ye want me to wark me passage, do ye? And what'll I do? It's gonetwinty years since I've been to sea. I can't go aloft, wi' the fat onme. "

"I see, " said the skipper, seriously, "that your displacement is morethan your dimensions call for. Can you boss that bunch of Kollkennycats?"

"I can, " said Murphy, mournfully and hopelessly, "if ye'll do yershare. Give me a brick to carry in me pocket, and I'll make 'em wark. They're rival factions from Limerick and Galway, and each side'll warklike hill to bate the other. I can stir 'em up to this, but I can'tcontrol thim widout a brick. "

"All right. Dig a brick out of the galley floor. Anything in reason toget sail on this ship. The topsails 'll do till they learn. "

"All right, Captain, " said Murphy, meekly. "I'm in for it, and I've gotto make the best of it. Shall I rouse 'em out now?"

"No; they're no good till sober. But steal their bottles before theywake. You fitted them out with some pretty strong stuff, I take it. They wakened at daylight, just as the tug came, mobbed the faces off meand the two mates, and only manned the windlass at last when I toldthem it made the boat go. Well, I can understand the rivalry. They tooksides, each gang together, and hove on the brakes, faster than I eversaw a windlass go round before. When they'd got the anchor apeak andthe mate told them to stop it made no difference. They hove the anchorup to the hawse-pipes, and would have parted the chain if it had beenweaker. Then they took another drink out of their bottles and went tosleep. The tug pushed us out past the light-ship and left us. So, herewe are. "

"Well, Captain, " said the subdued Murphy, "I'll git me brick, and letme ask ye. If ye've any shovels lyin' loose, stow 'em away. A shovel isa deadly weapon in the hands o' wan o' these fellys. "

Murphy went forward to the galley, and soon had pried out a solid, well-preserved brick from under the stove in the galley floor, againstthe aggrieved protest of the Chinese cook. 

"Dry up, ye Chink, " said Murphy. "Tell me, though, what's the bill o'fare for the forecastle. Mate three times a day?"

"Meat foul timey one week, " answered the Chinaman. 

"God help ye, doctor!" said Murphy, kindly. "Kape well widin yergalley, and have a carvin'-knife sharp; or better still, dig outanother brick for yersilf. I've troubles o' me own. "

Stepping out of the galley, Murphy met Hennesey emerging from the portforecastle door. 

"Well, ye rakin's o' Newgate, and what are _you_ doin' here?" hedemanded, fiercely. "Ye doped me successfully, Hennesey, and here I amwid our account unsettled. But what brings _you_ here?"

"Kape yer hands off me, John Murphy, and I'll tell ye. The dope in thebottles was too strong for me, but not for thim. When they wakened atdaylight they found me among 'em with the tug alongside, and insistedthat I drink wid thim 'fore goin' aboard the tug. "

"And ye did?"

"I did. They had their fingers at me throat, Murphy. So I drank. I gitthis for tryin' to help you out in your schemes, John Murphy. "

"And I git this for not watchin' you, Tim Hennesey. Gwan aft; the oldman 'll make ye a bosun like me; then come forrard and git yerself abrick agin' the time whin they wake up. Our lives are in danger whinthey find out they've got to wark a wind-jammer across to the old sod. We'll settle our private account later on. "

Murphy accompanied Hennesey aft and listened to his explanations toCaptain Williams. They were glib and apologetic. 

"I didn't know, " he said, "that they weren't sailormin. And they werethe only min in port, and Murphy had 'em; so I shipped 'em. "

"Exactly, " answered the captain, coldly; "and they shipped you. You twofellows are caught in the plant you prepared for me, and you've got tostand for it. Ever been to sea, Hennesey?"

"Tin years, Captain. I'm an able seaman, though not a heavy man. "

"Heavy enough. Get a brick out of the galley, and I'll make you a bosunwithout pay. You two will make those tarriers work. Come aft to thewheel, the pair of you. Mr. Baker"--this to the man coiling ropes, whodropped his task and followed--"Mr. Baker, " said the captain, "and Mr. Sharp"--he turned to the man at the wheel--"these two men have someinfluence over the crew, and I've made them acting bosuns. They've beento sea, and their part is to loose canvas and put ropes into the handsof the others. Your part is to see that they do it. "

The two officers turned their swollen faces toward Murphy and Hennesey, and inspected them through closed and blackened eyelids. Then theynodded, and the introduction was complete. 

"Come, Hennesey, " said Murphy, briskly, now that the situation wasdefined. "We'll be gettin' a brick for ye, and wan each for the skipperand the mates. We'll need 'em. Thin we'll go through 'em for the dope, and then we'll loose the canvas. "

For this short run across the Atlantic Captain Williams had shippedneither carpenter, sailmaker, nor boatswains, he and his two mates, aweakling steward and the Chinese cook representing the afterguard untilthe advent of Murphy and Hennesey. To properly equip this afterguard, Murphy pried out six more bricks from under the galley stove, solemnlydistributed them with instructions as to their use, and then he andHennesey replevined the half-empty bottles from the sleepers, an easytask for such skilled craftsmen. 

About noon the twenty-four awakened and clamored for their dinner. Itwas served, and as it contained meat in plenty it was satisfactory;then, smoking their clay pipes, they mustered on deck and, more or lessunconsciously, divided into two parts, the Galways separate from theLimericks. 

"Loose the foretopsail, Hennesey, " said Murphy, as he looked at them. "Overhaul the gear and stop it so ye can come down. Thin take thehalyards to the fo'c'stle capstan. I'll take the main. "

The first mate was content to remain out of the proceedings for thepresent. Murphy and Hennesey went aloft, performed their part, and camedown; then, when the two falls of the halyards were led to the twocapstans, Murphy, with his hand in his pocket and his heart in hismouth, went among them. 

"I want, " he said, sourly, "twilve good min, but I don't know that Ican git them. Ye're a lot o' bog-trotters that don't know enough toheave on a capstan. "

"The hill we don't!" uttered a Galway man close to him. 

"We l'arned thot in Checa-a-go. "

"Ye mane, " said Murphy, "that the Limerick boys _tried_ to l'arn, butthey couldn't. The wark's too hard. "

"Fwat's too ha-a-rd?" answered the Galway. "Ye domned murderer, fwat'stoo hard? D'y' think we can't wurruk?"

"D'ye think ye _can_ wark?" said Murphy. "Thin git at that capstan, youGalway min. And git busy, quick, or I'll give the job to the Limerickboys. They're passably good min, I think. "

"To hill wi' thim! Hurrah, here, b'ys. C'm'an and pull the mon's rope. Who says we can't wurruk?"

They joyously and enthusiastically surrounded the forecastle capstan, shipped the brakes, and began to heave, with black looks at the enviousLimericks, to whom Murphy now addressed himself. 

"Are yez lookin' for wark?" he demanded. 

"Yis, " they chorused. 

"Man that 'midship capstan, thin. Beat these Galway sogers and I'llgive ye wark right along. "

With whoops and shouts they flocked to the capstan amidships, and beganto compete, shoving on the bars, cheering and encouraging each otherand deriding those on the forecastle deck, who responded. It was a tie;the Galways had about a minute start, but the Limericks finished only aminute behind. Murphy and Hennesey nippered the falls at the pinrail, and belayed when they slacked. 

"It goes, Hennesey, " said Murphy, wiping the perspiration from hisbrow. "By puttin' wan gang agin' the other, maybe we won't need to showthe bricks. "

"Yes, " replied Hennesey, "that's all right; but I oncet heard an old, wise skipper say that any farmer can make sail, but it takes a sailorto take it in. What'll we do if it comes on to blow?"

"That's the least o' your troubles, and mine, Tim Hennesey. Put yertrust in Jasus and loose that mizzentopsail, while I get 'em to steadythe braces. "

But the demoralized first mate had so far aroused himself as to attendto the loosing of the mizzentopsail and topgallantsail; so Murphy witha little cajolery and ridicule induced the crew to sheet home andtauten the braces, then mustered them aft to the mizzentopsail halyardsand asked them if they could, the whole lazy two dozen of them, masthead that yard by hand, without the aid of the capstan. Theynoisily averred that they could, and they did, nearly parting thehalyards when the yard could go no higher. The chain-sheets they couldnot break, hard as they tried. 

"It's not according to seamanship, Hennesey, " said Murphy, "to man yerhalyards before ye sheet home; but--any way at all with this bunch. Nowgit up to the foreto'gallant and the royal, while I take the main. Thepoor mate's done his stunt on the mizzen. "

And so, by doing the seamanly work themselves and putting ropes intothe hands of the crew, the mate and the two boatswains got sail on theship, even to the jib-topsail and the mainroyal staysail. CaptainWilliams discreetly remained in the background, only asserting himselfonce, when he knocked an Irishman off the poop. For this indiscretionhe was menaced by violent death, and only saved himself by an appeal toMurphy, respect for whose diplomacy was fast overcoming CaptainWilliams's dislike of him. 

"What do ye think?" stormed Murphy, as he faced the angry men at thebreak of the poop. "Whin ye came over in the steamer did they allow yeup in the bridge, or aft o' the engine-room hatch? Stay forrard whereye belong, and don't git presumptions, just 'cause ye've been a year ina free country. Yer goin' back to Ireland now, to eat praties and drinkwater. There's no whisky on this boat, and no mate three times a day. No mate, d'ye understand?"

"No mate!" they vociferated. "No whusky!"

"No, ye bundle o' bad min, no whisky. Ye've drunk up what ye had, andthat was in America. Yer not in America now, and ye'll git no whisky, nor mate, barrin' four times a week. "

"We paid fur ut, " they declaimed. "How kin a mon wurruk widout it?"

"Ye _can_ wark widout it and ye will. Ye'll pull ropes as I tell you, and as ye l'arn ye'll steer the boat in yer turn. "

"We'll shteer, will we?"

"Yes, ye'll steer, straight for old Ireland and praties. "

"Hurrah! We'll git to the ould sod, will we?"

"Yes, but ye'll do it yerselves, mind ye. No kicks, no scraps. Ye'll doas yer told, and pull ropes, and wark. "

"We'll wurruk, " they declared, noisily. "It's not the loikes o' youth't'll foind the wurruk we can't do, nayther. "

"We'll see, " said Murphy, nodding his head portentously. 

"Meanwhile, take yerself away from this end o' the boat, and stay awayfrom it; and don't ye ever raise yer hands agin' any man that lives inthis end o' the boat, or things'll happen to ye. Now git. "

He drew forth the brick, and they left his vicinity. 

"Captain Williams, " said Murphy, solemnly, "that was a close call. Ifye'll take my advice, Captain, ye won't lay hands on 'em. "

"Why?" answered the skipper. "Do you think I'm going to have themtrooping around my cabin?"

"No, not at all; but show 'em the brick, only don't use it, or they'llthrow it back. And don't make any gun-play, for they don't know what itmeans, and it's no good, for ye can't shoot into thim. They're thathard that they'll turn a bullet, I'm told. "

"Possibly, " said the captain, looking at his hand. "I hurt myself whenI hit him. Well, Murphy, all right, if you can control them. I can seethat I might have to shoot them all if I shot one, and that wouldn'tdo. "

"No, of course not, sir. I'll l'arn a few of them to steer, and themates'll be rid of it. "

So, under these conditions they worked the ship across the westernocean. By tact and "sign language" Murphy induced them to stand theirtricks at the wheel; but they would stand no tutelage, and steered intheir own way--a zizzag track over the sea. Another limitation whichthey imposed upon their usefulness was their emphatic refusal to standwatch, though from inward impulse they divided themselves into watches. They would work factory hours, or not at all, so Captain Williams hadto be content with the loss of most of his light sails before thepassage was half over. For a sudden increase of wind at night wouldoccasionally prove too much for Murphy or Hennesey, with the mate onwatch. As for going aloft, day or night, their case was too hopeless, even for the optimistic Murphy, even had they been willing to leave thedeck--which, most decidedly, they were not. 

Even so, this passage might have reached a successful termination, thehomeward-bound Irishmen safely landed at Queenstown, and the othersgraduated in a much-needed schooling in the doctrine of the brotherhoodof man; but Captain Williams, against Murphy's urgent and earnest pleafor more meat on the forecastle menu, persisted in sticking to theoriginal diet. The _Albatross_ was a "full-and-plenty" ship--thatis, one in which, with the supposed consent of the crew, the governmentscale was discarded in favor of one containing more vegetables and lessmeat. But these men knew nothing of this, or the reasons for it; andwhile believing that there was no whisky in the ship, they had acceptedthis deprivation, they were firmly assured that there was plenty ofmeat; so day by day their discontent grew, until by the time the shiphad reached soundings they were ripe for open revolt. And it was thesmall, weakling steward that brought it about. 

The passage had been good for all except this steward. It had broughtto Captain Williams and his two mates, now recovered in mind and bodyfrom the first friction, the unspoken but fixed conception that therewere men in the world not afraid of them. It had reduced Murphy's fat, and his resentment against Hennesey and Captain Williams. It hadincreased Hennesey's respect for Murphy and lessened his respect forhimself; for without Murphy's moral support he could not have done hispart. It had eliminated the alcohol from the veins and the brains ofthe twenty-four wild men, and lessened the propensity to kill at thesame time that it lessened their fear of a brick. It had lessened thesublime, ages-old contempt for white men that the Chinese cook sharedwith his countrymen, and which simply _had_ to yield to the fear ofdeath inspired by three or four frenzied Irish faces at the galleydoor, their owners demanding "mate. " But the small steward, busy withhis cabin dishes, his cabin carpets, only visiting the galley to obtainthe cabin meals, had seen nothing, felt nothing, and learned nothing. And, with the indifference of ignorance, he had left his brick in thegalley--the fatal spot where it ought not to have been, in view of whatwas to happen. 

For three stormy days the ship had been charging along before a windthat had increased to a gale, and a following sea that threatened toclimb aboard. The jib-topsail, the skysails and royals, the lightermiddle staysails, and the fore and mizzen topgallantsails had beenblown away, and the ship was practically under topsails, a badequipment of canvas with which to claw off a lee shore. The lee shoredeveloped at daylight of the fourth stormy morning, a dim blueheightening of the horizon to the east, dead ahead; and CaptainWilliams, who had been unable to get a sight with his sextant for sixdays, could only determine that his dead reckoning, based upon the wildsteering of his crew, had brought him too far to the north, and thatthe land he saw was the coast above Mizen Head. 

After breakfast, when factory hours began, he called all hands to thebraces; and they came, bracing the yards for the starboard tack, tokeep away from that menacing lee shore; but, during the work, Murphy, by way of encouragement, called the crew's attention to the dim blot ofblue to leeward. 

"The Imerald Isle, boys, " he declared. "Wark, ye watchmakers, wark, andgit home. "

They worked nobly, but wondered why the ship was heading away from theEmerald Isle, and expressed their wonder loudly and profanely. In vaindid Murphy explain that Queenstown was around the corner to the south, and it was to Queenstown that they were bound. Their dissatisfactiongrew, and at dinner-time lifted them above the weakening influence ofthe "sign language. "

They had never taken account of the days when meat was due, ascribingthe fixed hiatuses to the unkindness of the Chinese cook; and when theymustered at the galley door at noon and the cook handed them a huge panof bean soup they raged at him, incoherently, but vehemently. 

"Whaur's th' mate--the mate? Giv's the mate, ye haythen! giv's themate, domyersool!"

The cook shrank back before their gleaming eyes and threatening fists, and they crowded into the galley, where, as fate determined, the mildlittle steward was gathering up the cabin dinner. He seized his brick. 

"Now, here, you men, " he said, bravely, "you get right out of thisgalley. Do you hear?" And he waved his brick threateningly. 

"Whaur's the mate? Giv's the mate, ye man-killers. "

"The mate is aft. You know that well as I do. Go right out of thisgalley. "

"Whaur's the mate?"

"Aft in the cabin, I told you. Get out of here. "

Even now things might have been well, for a few of them showed awillingness to go aft for the "mate. " But the men of the other countycame to the other galley door, and, menaced from both sides, thesteward unwisely threw his brick. It struck the head of the foremostIrishman (it was the man on his wedding trip) and almost knocked himdown. The cook frantically followed suit, and carnage began. The twogangs crowded into the narrow apartment, and the cook and steward soonwent underfoot before the shower of fist-blows and kicks. They wouldassuredly have been injured in the _mêlée_ had not a Limerick faceapproached too temptingly close to a Galway fist and diverted thestorm. In utter fear of death the two crawled to the stove and pried upa couple of bricks while the rival factions fought each other. Buttheir action was observed, and with whoops and oaths the combatantsarmed themselves, while the cook and steward crawled under the galleytable for safety. 

The captain and first mate were in the cabin, waiting for their dinner. The second mate was near the wheel, admonishing the Irish helmsman, ashe dared, in the way of better steering "by-the-wind. " Hennesey was inthe port forecastle, just turning out after his forenoon watch below, and Murphy was amidships; but the sound of oaths, shrieks of rage andpain, and the incessant hammering of bricks upon the bulkheads and thepots and pans of the galley brought all to the scene, the captain andmates with their pistols. 

"Hold on, Captain, " said Murphy; "don't shoot any wan. Just let 'emfight it out, then they'll be more tractable. "

This seemed reasonable, and the group watched from the main-hatch. There was a steady flight of bricks out through each galley door, someimpacting upon the rails and falling to the deck, others goingoverboard. Occasionally an Irishman would reel out in company with thebrick that had impelled him; but, after crawling around on all-foursfor a moment, he would go back with a brick gleaned from the deck. Atlast, however, one came out with a little more momentum thanusual--enough to carry him over to the rail; and from this point ofview he could see the group at the hatch. He glared at them from underhis tousled hair, then uttered a war-whoop. 

"Ei-hei-ee, in thaur!" he yelled, "quit yer foolin' an' c'm'an out. Here be the bloody murders, the man-killers, the domned sons uv alandlord. C'm'an out, ye divils. "

They heard, and they came, from both doors, with bloody faces andblackened eyes, and, seeing the captain and his aids, charged as oneman. In vain Murphy's poised brick and Hennesey's persuasive voice. Invain the leveled pistols of the captain and mates and their thunderingorders to stop or be shot down. There came a volley of bricks, and thecaptain's pistol was knocked from his hand, while a second brick, striking him on the head, robbed him of sense and volition. Each of themates fired his pistol once, but not again; the bullets flew wide, andthe firearms were twisted from their hands, while they were tripped up, struck, and kicked about until helpless to rise or resist. Hennesey andMurphy were also borne to the deck and punished. Some might have beenkilled had not one inspired Celt given voice to an original idea. 

"Lock 'em up!" he shouted. "Lock 'em up in the kitchen, an' nail thedures on thim!"

They joyously accepted the suggestion. The four weak and strickenconscious men were dragged or shoved into the galley by some, whileothers lifted the unconscious captain after them. Then the doors wereclosed, and soon they heard the hammering of nails over the jangle ofvoices. Then the jangle of voices took on a new and distinct note ofunanimity. 

"Turn the boat, Denny, " they shouted to the man at the wheel. "Turn theboat around. We'll go home in sphite o' thim, the vilyuns. "

Their footfalls sounded fainter and fainter as they rushed aft; andMurphy picked himself up from the floor, now almost denuded of itsbrick paving. 

"For the love of Gawd, " he groaned, wiping the blood from his eyes, "are they goin' to beach her in this gale?"

The galley was lighted by two large deadlights, one each side, toosmall to crawl through, but large enough for a man's head. Murphyreached his head through one of them and looked aft. They hadsurrounded the wheel, and their war-cries were audible. As many as sixwere handling the spokes, and the big ship was squaring away before thewind, heading for that dim spot of blue in the murk and smoke toleeward. Murphy could see it when the ship pitched into a hollow--aboutforty miles away. 

"And us locked up like rats in a trap, " he muttered. "She'll strike infour hours, and Gawd help us all if we can't git out of here. "

But there was no getting out, and they made the best of it. The cookand steward emerged from beneath the table, and made more or lessfrivolous comments on the condition of the galley and the ruin of thedinner, until silenced by the irate Murphy. The two mates took theirhands from their aching heads and showed interest in life; and in timeCaptain Williams came to his senses and sat up on the floor, smearedwith bean soup and cluttered with dented pots, pans, andstove-fittings. He was told the situation, and wisely accepted it; fornothing could be done. 

And from aft came to their ears the joyous whoops of the homeward-boundmen, close to their native land and anxious to get to it by theshortest route. Murphy occasionally looked out at them; they were allnear the wheel, cursing and berating those handling the spokes, andbeing cursed in return. But they were not quarreling. 

"Me brother Mike was right, " muttered Murphy, as he drew his head inafter a look at them. "They've forgotten their dinner. They'd ratherfight than ate, but rather wark than fight. "

The big, light ship, even with upper canvas gone and the yards bracedto port, was skimming along over the heaving seas at a ten-knot rate, and Murphy's occasional glimpses of that growing landfall showed himdetails of rock and wood and red sandy soil that bespoke a steep beachand a rocky bottom. The air was full of spume and the gale whistleddismally through the rigging with a sound very much like that ofMurphy's big base-burner in his Front Street boarding-house, when thechill wintry winds whistled over the housetops. He wondered if he wouldever return. 

"God help us, Skipper, " he said, solemnly, "if we don't strike at hightide. For at low tide we'll go to pieces an' be drowned as the waterrises. "

"I looked it up this morning, " said the captain, painfully; for he wasstill dazed from the effects of the brick. "It is high tide on thiscoast at four this afternoon. "

"All to the good, as far as our lives are consarned, " said Murphy; "andmebbe for your ship, Skipper. It'll be hard to salve her, of course;but she won't git the poundin' she'd get at low-water mark. "

"I don't care. It's a matter for the underwriters. Don't bother me. Imay kill you, Murphy, and your man Hennesey, some day, but not now. I'mtoo sick. "

They waited in silence until the crash came--a sickening sound of riventimbers and snapping wire rope. Then, from the sudden stopping of theship, there came a heightening and a strengthening of the song of thewind in the rigging, and the thumping of upper spars, jolted clear oftheir fastenings by the shock. Looking out, Murphy saw that thetopgallantmasts, with their yards, were hanging by their gear, threatening to fall at any heave of the ship on her rocky bed. And hesaw that the beach was not a hundred yards distant. Also, that the crewwas flocking forward. 

"Let us out of here, " he called, as they came within hearing. "Whatmore do ye want, ye bogtrotters? Ye've wrecked the man's boat, but d'yewant to kill us?"

"Yis, " they chorused. "Why not, ye divils? Ye've nearly killed us all, dom yez. No mate, no whusky, no money. Tell us the road to Galway. "

"An' the road to Limerick, " said another. "An' whin do we git paidaff?"

"I'll have ye in jail, ye hyeenas, " said Murphy. "That's yer pay, andthat's the road to Galway and Limerick. Wait till the coast guard comesalong. They'll git ye. "

He drew back to avoid a brick that threatened to enter the deadlight, and the conversation ended. 

Meanwhile the ship was slowly swinging around broadside to the beach. She was too high out of water for the seas to board her, though theypounded her weather side with deafening noise, and with each impact shewas lifted shoreward a few feet more. Finally the crashings ceased, andthey knew that, with water in the hold, she had gone as high as theseas could drive her. Then, with the going down of the tide, the heavypoundings of the sea grew less and the voices of the crew on theforecastle deck more audible. 

"Can we make it in three jumps, Terrence?" they heard. 

"No, ye fule. The wather's goin' down. Howld yer whist. "

Murphy, looking out through the deadlight, could see nothing of thewater between the ship and the beach; but far down to the south hediscerned a team of horses dragging a wagon holding a boat, and this heexplained to the skipper. 

"The coast guard, " explained the latter. "God grant that they get herebefore that bunch gets away. English law is severe upon mutineers. "

But in this Captain Williams was doomed to disappointment. The coastguard arrived in time and released them. But before this each man ofthe twenty-four had passed before the open deadlight, derided andjeered the unlucky prisoners, called them unprintable names, and sliddown the side on a rope to dry land. 

Murphy looked at them climbing the hills inland, their whoops and yellscoming back to him like pæans of victory. 

"And what county do ye think this is, Skipper?" he asked. 

"The county of Cork, of course, " answered the captain. 

"Well, " said Murphy, "an enemy's country. We'll hope that the county o'Cork 'll take care o' thim. They're beyand you and me and Hennesey, Skipper. "

EXTRACTS FROM NOAH'S LOG

While exploring the rocky gullies and canyons in the foothills of MountArarat last summer, I found a roughly symmetrical mass of pure copper. Oxidized and honeycombed as it was, I recognized the metal immediately, and repressing a strong inclination to hunt for the lead and stake outmy claim, I took my find home with me. Surprised at its diminishingweight as the moisture dried out of the spongy mass, I endeavored tosaw into it. The pure metal inside tore off every tooth of the saw, andnow convinced that it was a hollow cylinder of hardened copper, Ibrought it to America and gave it to a machinist to open. He ruined twodozen finely-tempered saws in the job, which I cheerfully settled for, as the cylinder contained a papyrus roll of manuscript of certainlygreat antiquity. 

My efforts to decipher it were baffled, as it was written in neitherancient nor modern Egyptian, new nor old Pali, nor in Greek, Latin, Sanscrit, nor in any other language with which I am acquainted. So Icalled in the services of two reverend friends of mine--able, eminent, and renowned professors of biology, bibliology, ethnology, andsockdology--who at once pronounced it ancient Cush and proceeded totranslate it; one remarking with a levity which but indifferentlybecame his calling, as I thought, that the exceeding toughness of theyarn no doubt accounted for the difficulty of sawing into it--in whichview his collaborator, to my surprise, was inclined to coincide. 

However, I cheerfully give them credit for the translation, but am freeto maintain that the elegance of diction, force of expression, andchoiceness of synonyms are my own. 

Besides, I found it. 

THE LOG. 

_Mon. , 7 days out. _ Raining yet, very hard--A few sinners still ondeck; a bunch got washed off last night; kinder sorry for them--Hamwill get a rope's-end if he don't look out; he skylarks too much withthe animals; put all the dogs in the cats' cage last night, and thewhole menagerie got excited at the row they made; couldn't hearourselves think for two hours; every brute in the outfit sung hissong--Roof leaks--Women say it's washday and have started in on theweek's wash; just like women; how'll they dry clothes this weather?

Course E. B. S. Ham at the wheel, Shem on the lookout. 

_Tues. , 8 days out. 4 bells. _ Women are growling because the sun don'tshine so the wash can dry; told them such murmuring as they indulged inwas flying straight in the face of Providence; told me to mind my ownbusiness; remarked that I was captain here and wouldn't take back talkfrom anyone; hove a bucket of water over me, durn them. _6 bells_. Gotmy log line strung up along 'tween decks and the whole blamed washtriced up in everybody's way. If I want to heave the log at 8 bells, overboard goes the wash, and don't care who likes it; I'm boss here. _8bells_. Didn't heave the log--Guess we're making four knots; windfresh. 

Course E. S. E. Shem at the wheel, Japheth on the lookout. 

_Wed. , 9 days out. _ Ironing day; blowing a gale of wind; women aremaking hard work of it and getting seasick--Hove to at 8 bells thismorning; lays easy; kicked Ham away from the wheel and steered histrick; afraid I can't make a sailor of him; wish I'd saved a fewsinners to work ship; could have drowned them afterwards. 

Heading N. E. By N. Japheth at the wheel. 

_Thurs. , 10 days out. _ Wish I knew who drinks my whiskey--Made sail atdaylight; difficult work, this handling sail below decks; can't seealoft, must feel when sheets are home; don't like these new fangledrolling topsails that furl themselves; they're not shipshape, but we'retoo short-handed for the old style--Wind going down. 

Course due E. Shem at the wheel, Ham on the lookout. 

_Fri. , 11 days out. _ Foggy; can't see two lengths; two of us on thelookout--Ham is under the scuttlebutt, drunk; whiskey lower; slightconnection here, maybe--Women are quarreling among themselves; they'rea heap of trouble; never quiet till they're seasick; found out they getseasick in a head sea; will remember this--The lion got out last nightand made a lunch out of my wife's pet dog Beauty; chased him back tohis cage with a handspike; sorry I had to hurt him; seven pugs leftnow; we started with a pair to each woman. 

No wind and nobody at the wheel. 

_Sat. , 12 days out. _ Wish it would clear up; sinners must be all deadby this time--Have had a hard day of it; that boy Ham let go the portanchor, and the whole range of chain, 45 fathoms, went out thehawse-pipe and fetched up with a jerk that carried away the windlassbitts and nearly tore the bows off her; kicked him up on deck in therain while we mended the windlass; hunted him up to help heave in chainand found he'd sneaked down, got at my jug, and was dead drunkalongside the same; don't see what the Lord wanted to save himfor--Must be clear of soundings now, so will keep her hove to for awhile under short sail, with the wheel lashed down. 

_Sun. , 13 days out. _ Held religious exercises at 4 bells; Ham attended, very devout and penitent, with a head as big as the jug--Women havetricked themselves out and are mincing around showing off; made me puton a white shirt; will get rid of it directly--Dead calm all day--Foundthe ark had a slight list to starboard; investigated, and discoveredabout three tons of stones, dead cats, and garbage stuck fast to thepitch outside; these things are what the sinners threw at the ark afterwe came aboard--Have locked up my whiskey. 

_Wed. , 16 days out. _ Made a great mistake when we started; was puzzledhow to feed the spiders, mosquitoes, bedbugs, and such; turned themloose to hustle for themselves, and that's what they've done eversince--Another pug disappeared last night; six left; gave Ham a talkingto about getting drunk; was sassy and I boxed his ears; told him if Iever saw him drunk again aboard my ship I'd log him; he don't seem tocare, but that's what I'll do every time--Still hove to. 

_Sun. , 20 days out. _ Ham broke into my locker last night, and isroaring drunk again; can't find the jug; will log him every timenow--No religious exercises to-day; women are complaining of myimpiety, but a man can't feel resigned when he has just lost afour-gallon jug of the best Egyptian corn whiskey. 

_Mon. , 21 days out. _ Ham's drunk. 

_Tues. , 22 days out. _ Ditto's ditto. 

_Wed. , 23 days out. _ Do. Do. 

_Thurs. , 24 days out. _ Do. Blind do. 

_Fri. , 25 days out. _ Do. Dead do. 

_Sat. , 26 days out. _ Do. Got snakes; got 'em bad; wish I couldfind that jug. 

_Sun. , 27 days out. _ Two more pugs missing; must keep away from thelion's cage when the women are around; he seems too pleased to see me, and they are getting suspicious; four of the ugly brutes leftnow--found my jug; Ham stowed it in my own bunk; he's smarter than Ithought--Had religious exercises; women wanted to mourn for their pugs;am willing they should mourn--Took a cast of the lead at noon; thirtyfathoms, mud bottom; made sail and squared away due E. 

_Mon. , 28 days out. _ My wife has confiscated the jug and means to keepit; we'll see about that; says it is the cause of poor, dear Ham'ssickness; undoubtedly; should have let it alone--Shem at the wheel, Japheth on the lookout. 

Course E. 

_Wed. , 30 days out. _ Mutiny! Bloody Mut---- d----n! ----!! (Note--Herethe manuscript bears evidence that Captain Noah was suddenlyinterrupted while writing. --Translator. )

_Fri. , 32 days out. _ Have had a lively time; discipline is restored, but the whiskey jug is gone--smashed over my head--all on account ofthe pugs; had hoped to rid the world of these parodies on the caninerace, and would have succeeded if my wife hadn't overhauled my pocketswhen I was asleep and read this log. Certain references to the pugs puther on the lookout and she and the other women watched me; one of thebrutes littered that night; I couldn't resist the temptation, and sofed the whole batch, mother and all, to the lion; in a minute had fourfurious women afoul of me, biting and clawing; sung out for help, andShem and Japheth bore down and rescued me; Ham helped the women andmade a majority for them; his mother had the jug, that's why; managedto floor him with a pump-brake, but they were still too many for us andchased us around decks till they got tired and sat down to cry; got tomy room and began writing them down in the log when they started inagain; my wife smashed the whiskey jug over my head--then we allescaped on deck and went aloft; couldn't follow us, but sat down andsaid things--Had a council of war, then Shem shinned over to theforemast and cut away all the jib halliards and sheets and halliards onthe fore--Ark had broached to in trough sea when Japheth left the wheelto help me, and had laid there with yards square and rollingconsiderable; women could stand that motion, but not a head sea, so nowwhen she came up to the wind and began pounding up and down anddrifting astern, they got qualmish and in twenty minutes were sprawledout helpless; Ham didn't know enough to take the wheel and throw heroff, so we came down, tied the women hand and foot, and then went forHam; triced him up and rope's-ended him till his nose bled; begged andhowled, but had to take it and learn that mutiny is unsafe aboard myship--Kept her head to the sea till we had spliced and rove off thegear, then set canvas and squared away again--Women got better; readthe articles to them; were penitent and promised to behave, but beforeturning them loose we went on a pug hunt and passed two of them in tothe lion; only one left now, but we haven't found it yet; women howleda good deal and called us heartless, cruel fiends--that's all right. 

My wife had lost the log-book in her excitement, and I only found itto-day. 

Course N. E. By E. Shem at the wheel. Jap. On the lookout. 

_Sun. , 34 days out. _ No religious services to-day; women are talkingabout me--don't talk _to_ me; if they do, I'll speak of that jug. 

Course due E. Blowing fresh. J. At the wheel, S. On lookout. 

_Mon. , 35 days out. _ Wash day, but there is no washing going on; won'thave it; am captain here; they were ugly at first, but I hauled her ona wind and said nothing; can't find that pug--Keep Ham at work on themenagerie now, feeding the animals and cleaning the cages--Dead calm. 

_Wed. , 37 days out. _ Nothing new; pug still missing; good mind to turnthe lion loose; he'll find the cur. 

_Fri. , 39 days out. _ If I don't find that pug to-day, will let the lionout first thing to-morrow. 

_Sat. , 40 days out. _ Stopped raining--We all went on deck this morning;it was a frightful picture--sun shining, not a cloud in the sky and nota sign of land nor ship, nor even a bird, in all this expanse ofdesolation; no life nor joyousness, nothing but muddy water; the deadworld fathoms underneath, and we alone, with our ark, all that wasleft; and whiskey gone--not a shot in the locker. 

At noon locked up the women and turned the lion loose; he didn't findthe pug, but found most everything else; smashed some bird cages and araven and dove got away; dove came back at sundown, but the ravendidn't; let all the birds out to get the air and roost up aloft. 

_Sat. , 47 days out. _ Chicken missing this morning; suspect Ham ofstealing it--A pigeon fluttered down on deck with a green leaf fast inits gullet and half choked; pulled leaf out; pigeon must have beensomewhere else and got it; will keep to the eastward and look out forland. 

_Tues. , 50 days out. _ Blowing great guns, and dismasted; under doublereefs, storm spanker, and foretopmast staysail at daylight; blew awaythe staysail; set jib; that went too and took jibboom; cut away thewreck; she came up to the wind, caught aback, and away went themizzenmast at the deck; cut that away, paid off in the trough of thesea, and rolled the fore and mainmast out; cleared away everything, rigged out a sea anchor, and now were riding it out comfortable--thatis, for us; women are all sick. 

Land to the eastward, small island. 

_60 days out. _ Land still in sight; gets bigger; suppose the water isgoing down; nothing to do now but eat, sleep, and hunt for thatpug--Still riding at the sea anchor. 

_100 days out. _ Pug must be dead--More land showing up. 

_150 days out. Noon_--Driving on a lee shore stern foremost; gettinganchors ready; _sundown_--let go both anchors as we got close in;dragged, and here we are, with every sea making a clean sweep over us;ark won't last long; getting out liferaft and turning animals loose. 

_Next morning. _ Floated ashore all right; ark is breaking up andanimals swimming in; last to come were that missing pug and sevenhalf-grown pups; submit to the will of Providence, but still thinkwomen had the durned brute hid in the lower hold. 

_Next day. _ Poor place to live on this island--Nothing grown, but agrapevine I found on the beach; will take care of it; it means grapes, and grapes mean juice, and it's been a long time between drinks--Ham isquite useful now; takes a deep interest in the vine and helps me 'tendit. 

_Month later. _ Grapevine is doing well. 

_Four months later. _ Grapes appearing. 

_Two months later. _ Picked the grapes; now for some wine--Ham is amodel boy; did him good to rope's-end him. 

_Five months later. _ Wine has worked; will serve grog to-morrow andcelebrate the anniversary of our shipwreck. 

_Next day. _ (The manuscript of this last day's entry is obscure, and soincoherent, as to make it strongly probable that Captain Noah servedthe grog as indicated, and that he wrote while under the influence ofthe same. There are, however, some legible references to certain "pugs"which would go to show that he still had those animals in mind andperhaps regretted his failure to effect their extinction. --Translator. )