"Dat er dago, Pedro, sah," shouted Sam, who was not a special friend of the little Chilian. Black Davis had seen many a fatality of this sort, and to his credit it may be said that, whatever the emergency, it always found him ready. "Bosun!" he roared, "git down off thet yard an' fetch a pair er handcuffs!" The whole ship was now awake to the fact that a tragedy had occurred. The old man appeared through the companion-way with his Winchester crooked under his arm, and going to the rail of the poop, sang out to know if the second mate was badly hurt. "He's done cashed in his checks, sir!" Ben Sluice roared back. "Better send up a bosun's chair to get the body down on deck, sir," sang out Jack. "All right, all right, not so durned full o' talk up thar," growled the old man. An atmosphere of excitement began to pervade the ship, and all work was dropped. Those who were up the fore scrambled quickly to the deck, and began feverishly to discuss the matter with Black Davis's gang, in charge of the main course. Black Davis, swinging himself on to the rail, slowly started the ascent of the main rigging. "'Oo did they say stuck 'im?" asked the cockney. "Yew bet it's thet dago cuss Pedro done carved him up. I see'd the devil stickin' out a foot outen them black eyes er his; I've just been waitin' ter see him get his claws into one of 'em," replied Hank, taking a mighty bite out of a plug of tobacco, which he proceeded to chew vigorously. "Gee-up! gee-up! Pedro kill-um one piecee boss number two velly muchee chop-chop! Me heap flaid--no likee funee business; plenty muchee solly!" ejaculated Lung, looking out through his galley door. "You thinks as 'ow it's goin' to raise trouble, does ye, ye bloomin' h'opium-slave?" remarked Hollins, with the insolent tone of one addressing an inferior being. "And I ain't so sure the chink ain't right neither," put in Hank. "Der teufel ish dode, und it serves him recht; he was lookin' for it," grunted Muller, the German. "You're right, Dutchy. He were playing for a show-down an' the dago plumb euchred him," remarked the gambler, Studpoker Bob. "An' if thet other golderned bucko don't mind his little game some, he'll find himself up against the iron likewise," he continued in a lower tone, with an upward glance full of sinister meaning. "I reckon he ain't easily gallied,[5]" said Hank. "It'll take a man with a mighty stiff backbone to heave that beggar to, an' you may lay to that." "Begorr, but there's men in this foc's'le would be after batin' the eye-teeth out of him," burst in the eager Paddy. "Not in the port foc's'le, son; yew bet he's got us all skeert." "Be me sowl, but he ain't goin' to come it over us starbowlines none, or he'll get the divil's own larrupin'," said Pat fiercely. "Who's goin' to do ther larrupin'?" inquired Hank scornfully. "I'm due to get square with that ladybuck myself, bad luck to him." "Holy Gee! but he'd fair eat yew, Pat, an' ask for more."