“Just what I was going to propose,” said Cheviot briskly. “Trouble is there aren’t enough hands to get the coal out before—” “Oh, yes, we know that’s his excuse.” “His? It’s yours and mine. And a pretty lame excuse, too.” “Was it you,” demanded Gedge truculently, “that put it into his empty cocoanut to ask us to lend a hand at pitchin’ our own stuff overboard?” “At present it’s a question of pitching out other fellows’ coal.” Then lower: “See here, Gedge, I want two words with you.” “No you don’t. None of us didn’t come up here for ‘words.’ No, nor to try and patch up the captain’s mistakes by turnin’ ourselves into beasts o’ burden.” Cheviot lowered his voice and argued a moment or two, Gedge bursting in with remarks intended to assure his satellites that he wasn’t being “got at.” But Cheviot pressed him hard. [Illustration: “Coolies crawled up the ladder with vast burdens”] “Well, I’ll tell you what we’ll do. If we ain’t goin’ to get out of this fix without we turn to and help that fool captain—tell you what we’ll do, boys. If we got to work, we’ll work for Nome wages. Hey, boys? Ten dollars an hour.” “Oh, see here!” said Cheviot, “the captain can’t play up to that lead.” “Any feller,” shouted Gedge, “that works for a penny less’n ten dollars an hour is lowerin’ the market. He’s an enemy to society. He’s a—” “He’s simply a fellow with a notion he’d like to get to Nome. I thought you were a pretty sharp customer, Gedge, but you’re just an every-day sort of ass after all.” With which Cheviot climbed back over the crates whistling, as though his momentary concern were at an end. “Hello!” O’Gorman called out. Cheviot turned aside, when he caught sight of the giant towering over the nook where the two women sat out of the wind. “What luck?” said O’Gorman, under his breath. “Four. And you?” “Only two.” O’Gorman motioned with his head toward the smoke-stack, and lowered his voice to a whisper: “He’s got hold of an awful lot of the men.” Cheviot nodded. “Yes. We’re up against that fellow everywhere we turn.” “Always two leaders in every crowd,” O’Gorman said. “One to lead up, t’other to lead down. I’m ready to bet on you!” They talked in undertones. Only Gedge could be heard distinctly. He was growing hoarse. His increasing audience was taking on the proportions of a mass meeting. But the voice of the popular leader was showing wear. He ended his oration with some abruptness. “Come along, Joslin. Let’s go and licker up.” “Now! Nail him now!” whispered Cheviot, and vaulting over a prodigious pile of machinery he disappeared with Blumpitty and several others into the hold, while O’Gorman darted out in the opposite direction just in time to intercept Gedge and Joslin. “There’s got to be two shifts. You fellows comin’ to help?” “Help!” Gedge rolled out a brace of handsome oaths. “_Help!_ that—captain?”