They turned back to the bulwarks, shoving aside the sailors. There was the noise of a scuffle, the cry of an angry oath--and a man ran across the deck and dodged behind the steam-winch that stood beside the hatch. He was pursued by a helmeted fireman who came cursing. “Here!” Keighley caught the fireman by the shoulder as he passed. “What’re yuh doin’.” It was “Shine.” He cried, “That’s Doherty. That’s the damn bug that--Nab ’m, Turk.” He struggled to get free of Keighley’s grip, swearing like a street gamin. “Yuh double-crosser!” he yelled at Doherty. “Yuh dirty back-capper! Let me at ’m.” Keighley turned to Lieutenant Moore. “Bring that man here,” he said. But Doherty did not wait to be surrounded. He leaped to the open hatch, caught the rung of the iron ladder and swung down into the hold. “What’s he doing here?” the chief asked. “He was loadin’,” someone answered. “Haul him up out o’ that,” Keighley ordered. “Shine” broke for the hatchway, with two of the men at his heels. He was half way down the ladder when Doherty’s voice from below threatened: “The first man ’at comes down here, I’ll let the cats loose on him.” “Go on,” Keighley said grimly. “Bring ’m up. We don’t want any more _Sachsen_ games played on us here.” They went. But they did not go far. “Shine” had no more than jumped down among the cages when a shrill squealing rose in the hatch. A yell from “Shine” topped it with a startling note of fright; and up the ladder, over the men on the rungs, there came a swarm of monkeys, biting and fighting like rats as the men tried to beat them off, and clinging to arms and legs, shrieking and chattering, when the men, retreating, began to clamber up. They poured out, gibbering, on the deck and put the crew to flight. Then they scattered in all directions, up the derrick to the top-tackle, and up the house-work to the higher decks. And when “Shine” came up the ladder, with the last little marmoset hugging his neck, the main deck was empty, the men were laughing shamefacedly on the bulwarks, and Keighley was bellowing down to the _Hudson_ for two lines of small hose. “All right,” he said. “We’ll queer that game.” “Leave him alone,” the chief ordered. “Look after that fire.” “That’s what we did on the _Sachsen_,” Keighley replied, “an’ we ended up in a hole.” He added, in a swift aside: “All right, chief. I want to show yuh somethin’. That’s Doherty--the man the ‘Jiggers’ tried to knife me fer. I’m goin’ to send after ’m the four jiggers that’s left in the crew. I want yuh to see fer yerself about how much o’ the Jigger bus’ness there _is_ in my comp’ny. I’ll take the other men down after the fire.” The chief considered a moment, and let his silence give consent. Keighley pushed back his helmet from his forehead and turned to his men, his lips shut tight on a smile.