Stanley pulled himself away, and the Englishman, fearless though he was, felt daunted by the strange light in his host's eyes. "If you don't like my friend, why, get out!" cried Stanley. "If you're a snob, and won't drink with a common sailor, and a dead one at that, why, just say so. But I tell you, Hemming, I like him. I didn't when I killed him, but I love him now. You should hear him sing." For a moment Hemming stood undecided. Then he removed his overcoat, and drew a chair for himself up to the table. "I am very stupid to-night," he said, smiling. "Of course I'll have a drink with you and Kelley. Just a couple of fingers, old chap. Kelley seems a good sort. Do you think he will favour us with a song?" Stanley got another glass, and poured the whiskey for his guest. His face was haggard, though he was clearly pleased with Hemming's change of manner. "Oh, he is a good sort, sure enough," he said, "but I don't believe you could hear him sing. It is all I can do sometimes. He has a fine voice, but he is a bit handicapped by the cut in his lip. Do you notice the cut in his lip? I gave him that years ago. Knocked four or five teeth down his neck, too, I guess. Do you know, Hemming, I was afraid, when you first came in, that you thought me nutty." For a little while Stanley seemed sunk too deep in meditation for utterance. He looked up presently, but not at Hemming. "Kelley," he said, "_you_ can understand being afraid of a man, and there was a time when _I_ was afraid of a ghost, but what do you think of a man who is afraid of a woman?" He paused for a moment, and seemed to receive an answer, for he laughed and continued, "Just my sentiment, old cock. She isn't after him with a knife, either. She is in love with him, and once he was in love with her, but now he's afraid to go within miles of her. He's in love with her, too; at least, so they told Tarmont." Hemming jumped from his chair. "Who the devil are you talking about?" he cried. Stanley glared blankly for a moment. "Why, sure enough; I'm talking about you," he said. "See here, Stanley," exclaimed the Englishman, earnestly, "are you drunk, or are you mad, or are you only making a fool of yourself, and trying to make one of me?" "I am not drunk," replied the other, slowly, "and why should I try to make a fool of you? Some one has saved me that trouble. But I may be mad, old chap, though I haven't taken to biting people yet." Hemming started, and glanced about him uneasily. "Well, I really must go," he said; "I have some work to do," and he hurried away without shaking hands. He went to the nearest drug-store, where he might use the public telephone. He was about to ring up a doctor when an amused chuckle at his shoulder arrested him. He turned his head. There stood Stanley, leering pleasantly.