"Then if you'll go forward, Harrigan," said the captain, and his voice was dry and dead as his skin--"if you'll go forward and report to the bos'n, he'll see that you have a bunk." "Thank you, sir," murmured Harrigan, and slipped from the room on his bare feet. "That man," stated Henshaw, "is as strong as you are, McTee, and yet they call you the huskiest sailor of the South Seas." "He is almost as strong," answered McTee with a certain emphasis. Something like a smile appeared in the eyes of Henshaw, but did not disturb the fixed lines of his mouth. For a moment Henshaw and McTee measured each other. The Scotchman spoke first: "Captain, you're as keen as the stories they tell of you." "And you're as hard, McTee." The latter waved the somewhat dubious compliment away. "I was breaking that fellow, and he held out longer than any man I've ever handled. The shipwreck interrupted me, or I would have finished what I started." "You'd like to have me finish what you began?" "You read my mind." "Discipline is a great thing." "Absolutely necessary at sea." Henshaw answered coldly: "There's no need for us to act the hypocrite, eh?" McTee hesitated, and then grinned: "Not a bit. I know what you did twenty years ago in the Solomons." "And I know the story of you and the pearl divers." "That's enough." "Quite." "And Harrigan?" "As a favor to you, McTee, I'll break him. Maybe you'll be interested in my methods." "Try mine first. I made him scrub down the bridge with suds every morning, and while his hands were puffed and soft, I sent him down to the fireroom to pass coal." "He'll kill you someday." "If he can." They smiled strangely at each other. A knock came at the door, and Salvain entered, radiant. "She is divine!" he cried. "Her hair is old copper with golden lights. McTee, if she is yours, you have found another Venus!" "If she is not mine," answered McTee, "at least she belongs to no other man." Salvain studied him, first with eagerness, then with doubt, and last of all with despair. "If any other man said that I would question it--so!--with my life. But McTee? No, I love life too well!" "Now," Henshaw said to Salvain, "Captain McTee and I have business to talk." "Aye, sir," said Salvain. "One minute, Salvain," broke in McTee. "I haven't thanked you in the girl's name for taking care of Miss Malone." The first mate paused at the door. "I begin to wonder, captain," he answered, "whether or not you have the right to thank me in her name!" He disappeared through the door without waiting for an answer. "Salvain has forgotten me," muttered McTee, balling his fist, "but I'll freshen his memory." He flushed as he became aware of the cold eye of Henshaw upon him. "Even Samson fell," said the old man. "But she hasn't cut your hair yet, McTee?" "What the devil do you mean?"