The captain flung it open, and they discovered the two worthies seated at ease with a black bottle and two glasses at hand. Campbell, in the manner of a musical critic of some skill, leaned back in a chair with his brawny arms folded behind his head and his eyes half closed. Harrigan, tilted back in a chair, rested his feet on the edge of a small table and swept the guitar which lay on his lap. In the midst of a high note he saw the ominous pair standing in the door, and the music died abruptly on his lips. He rose to his feet and nudged Campbell at the same time. The latter opened his eyes and, glimpsing the unwelcome visitors, sprang up, gasping, stammering. "What? Come in! Don't be standing there, Cap'n Henshaw. Come in and sit down!" In spite of his bluster his red face was growing blotched with patches of gray. Harrigan, less moved than any of the others, calmly replaced the guitar in its green cloth case. "I sent this fellow down to be put at hard work," said Henshaw, and waited. It was obvious to Harrigan that the chief engineer was in mortal fear. He himself felt strangely ill at ease as he looked at White Henshaw with his skin yellow as Egyptian papyrus from a tomb. "Just a minute, captain," began the engineer. "You sent Harrigan down to the hole because he's considered a hard man to handle, eh?" Henshaw waited for a fuller explanation; he seemed to be enjoying the distress of Campbell. "Just so," went on the Scotchman, "but there are two ways of handling a difficult sailor. One is by using the club and the other by using kindness. The club has been tried and hasn't worked very well with Harrigan. I decided to take a hand with kindness. The results have been excellent. I was just about--" His voice died away, for McTee was chuckling in a deep bass rumble, and Henshaw was smiling in a way that boded no good. The captain broke in coldly: "I've heard enough of your explanation, Campbell. Send Harrigan down to the hole at once. We'll work him a double shift today, for a starter." Campbell was trembling like a self-conscious girl, for he was drawn between shame and dread of the captain. "Look!" he cried, and taking the hand of Harrigan, he turned it palm up. "This chap has been brutally treated. He's been at work that fairly tore the skin from the palms of his hands. One hour's work with a shovel, captain, would make Harrigan useless at any sort of a job for a month." "Which goes to show," said McTee, "that you don't know Harrigan." "I've heard what you have to say," said Henshaw. "I sent him down to work in the hole; I come down and find him singing in your room. I expect you to have him passing coal inside of fifteen minutes, Campbell." Harrigan started for the door, feeling that the game had been played out, and glad of even this small respite of a day or more from the labor of the shovel. Before he left the room, however, the voice of Campbell halted him.