Give Finch his due. With even moral support behind him, he would have overwhelmed Joel in a single rush. Without that support, he would still have faced any reasonable attack. But there was something baffling about Joel's movements, his tones, the manner of his command, that stupefied Finch. He felt that he was groping in the dark. The mutiny must have collapsed.... It may have been only a snare to trap him.... He was alone--against Joel, and with none to support him.... Finch's courage was not of the solitary kind. He took one slow step toward Joel, and in that single step was surrender. Joel stood still, but his eyes held the big man's; and he said curtly: "Quickly, Finch." Finch took another lagging step, another.... Joel dropped his hand in his coat pocket and drew out a pair of irons. He tossed them toward Finch; and the mate shrank, and the irons struck him in the body and fell to the deck. He stared down at them, stared at Joel. Joel said: "Pick them up. Snap one on your right wrist. Then put your arms around the davit, there, and snap the other...." Finch shook his head in a bewildered way, as though trying to understand; and abruptly, a surge of honest anger swept him, and he stiffened, and wheeled to rush at Joel. But Joel made no move either to retreat or to meet the attack; and Finch, like a huge and baffled bear, slumped again, and slowly stooped, and gathered up the handcuffs.... With them in his hands, he looked again at Joel; and for a long moment their eyes battled. Then Joel stepped forward, touched Finch lightly on the arm, and guided him toward the rail. Finch was absolutely unresisting. The sap had gone out of him.... Joel drew the man's arms around the davit, and snapped the irons upon his wrist. Finch was fast there, out of whatever action there was to come. And Joel's lips tightened with relief. He stepped back.... He saw, then, that some of the crew had heard, and three or four of them were gathering amidships, near the try works. The two harpooners were there; and one of them was that black whom Joel had brought from the _Martin Wilkes_, and in whom he placed some faith. He eyed these men for a moment, wondering whether they were nerved to strike.... But they did not stir, they did not move toward him; and he guessed they were as stupefied as Finch by what had happened. So long as the men aft allowed him to go free, they would not interfere. They did not understand; and without understanding, they were helpless. He turned his back on them, and looked toward Mark. Mark Shore had watched Joel's encounter with Finch in frank enjoyment. Such incidents pleased him; they appealed to his love for the bold and daring facts of life.... He had smiled.