He waited for a response. As a rule, sailors are glad to curry favor with the bos'n. Harrigan, however, sat without speaking, staring through the gloom. "Well?" said Hovey at length. "You're a silent man, Harrigan." There was no response. "All right; I like a silent man. In a way of speakin', I need 'em like you! If you say little to me, you're likely to say little to others. "I don't talk much myself," went on Hovey, "until I know my man. I ain't seen much of you, but I guess I figure you straight." He grew suddenly cautious, cunning, and the steady, gray-blue eyes reminded Harrigan of a cat when she crouches for hours watching the rathole. "You ain't got much reason for standing in with White Henshaw?" he purred. "H'm," grunted the Irishman, and waited. "Sure, you ain't," went on Hovey soothingly, "because McTee has raised hell between you. They say McTee tried his damnedest to break you?" The last question was put in a different manner; it came suddenly like a surprise blow in the dark. "Well?" queried Harrigan. "What of it?" "He tried all the way from Honolulu?" "He did." "Did he try his fists?" "He did." Jerry Hovey cursed with excitement. "And?" "I carried him to his cabin afterward," said Harrigan truthfully. "Would you take on McTee again? Black McTee?" "If I had to. Why?" "Oh, nothin'. But McTee has started White Henshaw on your trail. Maybe you know what Henshaw is? The whole South Seas know him!" "Well?" "You'll have a sweet hell of a time before this boat touches port, Harrigan." "I'll weather it." "Yes, this trip, but what about the next? If Henshaw is breakin' a man, he keeps him on the ship till the man gives in or dies. I know! Henshaw'll get so much against you that he could soak you for ten years in the courts by the time we touch port. Then he'll offer to let you off from the courts if you'll ship with him again, and then the old game will start all over again. You may last one trip--other men have--one or two--but no one has ever lasted out three or four shippings under White Henshaw. It can't be done!" He paused to let this vital point sink home. Only the same dull silence came in reply, and this continued taciturnity seemed to irritate Hovey. When he spoke again, his voice was cold and sharp. "He's got you trapped, Harrigan. You're a strong man, but you'll never get his rope off your neck. He'll either hang you with it or else tie you hand and foot an' make you his slave. I _know!_" There was a bitter emphasis on the last word that left no doubt as to his meaning, and Harrigan understood now the light of that steady, gray-blue eye which made the habitual smile of good nature meaningless. "Ten years ago I shipped with White Henshaw. Ten years ago I didn't have a crooked thought or a mean one in my brain. Today there's hell inside me, understand? Hell!" He paused, breathing hard.