With the appearance of the huge bosun, calm and collected in the midst of the chaos, something like order began to prevail on deck. The _Higgins_ was got on to her course, the yards trimmed, and whilst some of the hands were sent aloft to finish bending the two topsails, Ben Sluice and the body of the second mate were lowered to the deck in the bosun's chair. The captain's bullet proved to have only grazed the forehead of the dago and stunned him, upon discovering which the mate had the senseless man roughly lowered down in a running bowline from the gantline block. As Black Davis reached the deck, the old man, who was still fuming like a smouldering volcano, turned upon him with a withering glare. "Hm, mister mate, an' a nice bunglin' yew made of it up aloft, lettin' a miserable little deck-swab of er Chilanean make a fool er yew like that. Ain't yew ever put the bracelets on a man before? Y'll have ter hustle round considerable mor'n this, or yew won't suit Cappen Bob Riley"; and with a final snort the irate skipper disappeared down the companion. Mr. Bucko Davis turned back to his work in no very sweet frame of mind. The body of the second mate had been placed on the main-hatch, and alongside it was laid the senseless form of Pedro. "Hyeh, boy!" growled the mate to the kid, who was at work outside the galley, peeling potatoes for the cabin dinner. "Git er bucket er water an' see if yew can't wake thet dago up." The boy drew a bucket over the side, and then, with shaking hands, tilted it gently over the face of the South American; but with his big brown eyes dilating with fright, the kid went very gingerly to work. "Thet won't do, thet won't do," grunted Black Davis. "Give it ter me! Can't yew throw water yet?" Seizing the bucket, with a true bosun's swing the mate hove the water over the unconscious man, with such skill that not one square inch of him from head to heel escaped the deluge. "More water! more water! Neow then, jump around lively," called the angry demon impatiently. With the sousing the mate gave him, Pedro could only do one of two things, either lie there and be drowned or come to his senses. This latter he proceeded to do whilst the kid was drawing a fourth bucketful. "Thought thet'd rouse the skunk," commented Black Davis; then, grabbing hold of the wretched man by the scruff of his neck, he dragged him off the hatch, and, dropping him on the deck, gave him three terrific kicks over the ribs. "P'raps thet'll learn yew who's mate o' this ship, yew knifing beast; ther's one fer the second mate an' two fer me, 'count of all the trouble y've given me." The miserable Pedro now broke out into low moans. "Hm! Just like er dago! Cuts er man up an' then whines," went on the bucko, as he picked up the handcuffs off the hatch; then for a moment he stood hesitating, evidently turning something over in his mind.