"For God's sake, are you Jim, the twin brother of Jack? We all thought you were dead--drowned with your father." "He was drowned, doctor. I floated on a piece of board and was saved. I went crazy for a while, and then--I never could get along. I couldn't get work, and things got worse and worse, and then I took to the road, and then I came to New York, and--I guess I got drunk, and got here." "Shanghaied, that's what ye were," grunted the Celt. I looked closely at Jim's face. Aside from the facial angle and the color of his eyes there was no resemblance to the brother who, at seven years of age, had been his counterpart. A badly kept beard added to the discrepancy, no doubt, but the whole atmosphere of the man was different. There was a slight reminder of Jack in the lower tones of the voice, but its usual note was a whine, and in his whole bearing was the slinking aspect of a vagrant of the worst kind. Certainly, I could not take this human wreck into the presence of that mother and brother. "You must stay here for a while, Jim," I said firmly. "You must not come near the other end of the ship unless I give you permission, and I will see that you are protected and cared for. Understand? Stay here with these men, and I will see you every day. What is your name?" I asked the Irishman. "Limerick, sorr--aboard ship." "Limerick, you seem to be a man, and a square one. This is an old friend of mine--and of my family--but you can understand that he must stay here. See that he is well treated, and I will make it right with you." "I will that, sorr," answered Limerick promptly, "though I belong in the other watch an' ought to be on deck now. I don't wonder ye're ashamed o' him, sorr. I'm ashamed meself. Just the same I'll break the sconce o' the first mon that lays hands on him. I'll do that for ye, sorr. I know a gintleman, an' ye're one, or ye wouldn't be here in this fo'c'sle." I went aft and joined Jack and his mother on the poop, forgetting the mate's need of my services in the mood I was in. "Dad," said Jack, addressing me by the name he had called me since I had become his stepfather, "you're a physician. Tell me what ails me. I'm all right now, but I went for the mate for doing just what I had told him to do, and then went into a blue funk over it--frightened out of my senses. But what at? I'm not afraid of any man aboard." "How is the poor man that was struck?" asked my wife anxiously. "He's all right," I answered promptly, understanding now her instinctive concern, and inclined to smile at Jack's palpable resentment of it. "But what's the matter with _me_?" he demanded sharply. "I don't know, Jack," I said. "I'll have to think it out."