Both watches were now gathered round the two combatants, a ring of excited faces. The gambler was perched up on the capstan, and as he remarked afterwards in describing the fight to Red Bill, who was all this time waiting to be relieved at the wheel, "I jest sits back in the peep-chair an' follows the run of the cards, like it were a faro game." The cockney, his face working with excitement, hopped up and down like a cat on hot bricks, crying out, "Sock it to 'im, Ben, sock it to 'im! Starboard watch fur ever!" "Chucks! but Ben has him in one spin o' the wheel," remarked Broncho to the rover. "This here's a freeze-out for Hank; he's beginnin' to unwind melodies o' despair." For Hank, in his effort to breathe, was groaning and grunting and choking. "Go easy, Ben; I think Hank's had about enough," interposed Jack, leaning over and trying to drag him off the prostrate down-easter. "Sticks to Hank closer'n bacon-rind," observed Broncho, watching Jack's unavailing efforts. "Help me get him off," panted the rover. "He'll choke the man in a minute." "That's some obvious--that 'possum ain't doin' no roll-over an' playin' dead," drawled the cowboy composedly, as he lent Jack his aid. "A man's finish is his own," put in the gambler, objecting to the interference of the two friends. "You jest hold your hand, my lively one-horse-saloon bottle-washer, or I suspicion I'll have to tame you some," said the cowpuncher contemptuously. Then, with a terrific heave together, Jack and Broncho pulled old Ben off Hank on to his feet. Ben just stood there and looked at his victim, gasping on the deck. "Mebbe that'll learn you some, mister; Ben Sluice don't allow no Yankee wolf to come yowlin' blood round him without puttin' up a breeze o' some sort"; and he turned on his heel, clambered down the ladder, and went aft to relieve the wheel. "Wake up, old son, an' take a new hold," said the cowpuncher kindly, as Hank gave no signs of life except to roll his eyes and breathe in harsh, jerky groans. "Get us a bucket of water, Jim," called the rover. The water had the desired effect. Hank's face assumed a more healthy colour; he drew a deep breath and sat up. "I'm feelin' some considerable used up," he muttered slowly; and then he began to swear in that vivid, forcible way which obtains at sea. Presently he rose to his feet and stood staggering, then lurched forward like a drunken man and headed for the topgallant-ladder. "He's shore as wobbly as a tenderfooted cow-hoss in a patch o' cactus," remarked Broncho, as he noted Hank's tottering steps. "I was all choked up in a minit; that minin' tough's fingers are like iron clamps," threw back the other, as he carefully clawed his way down on to the maindeck. "And that h'ain't no josh, neither," declared the cockney feelingly. "'E nearly 'as you garrotted inter dead meat, s'elp me bob."