The first liberty I made after that--in Hong Kong--I caught my boxing rival ashore. I gave him a proper beating. He took it as something coming to him, without complaint. The next liberty I made--in Nagasaki it was--I caught my warrant-officer ashore. He was not on duty and so not in uniform, and, pretending to mistake him for somebody else, I gave him a grand beating. Six or eight of their little ju-jutsu policemen clung to my legs and back, but that didn't stop me from finishing my job on him. I left him in such a ridiculous fix that he was ashamed to complain, but the Japanese authorities weren't satisfied. I spent a night in one of their jails, and aboard ship next day I was masted and once more disrated--this time with a sermon from the captain on my disorderly ways. I didn't mind the captain's lecture--I had rated that--but I did mind being drafted to another ship with a record as a disturber. I had not taken more than four or five drinks in my time up to then, and then more out of curiosity than desire, but on my next liberty--in Manila--I took a drink. I didn't like the taste of it--I don't yet--but there's never any use in half-doing a thing--I took another, and more than another. From then on I began making liberty records. Officers were good to me. It is only a skunk of an officer who will take pride in crowding an enlisted man, and I've met few skunks among our officers. So long as I could hold my feet coming over the gang-plank, a friendly shipmate buckled to either side of me and I able to answer "Here!" to the roll-call--so long as I could do that, there were deck officers who looked no further. 'Twas a friendly way, but bringing no cure to me. By and by Meagher was assigned to our ship. He had married Mary, and this was maybe a year later. He was a warrant-officer--had been for five years--a chief gunner, wearing his sword and being called Mister. And wearing it with credit--all the gun crews spoke well of him. He never let on that he remembered me, until one day the handling-room was cleared of all but the two of us, and then it was me who spoke to him. "I'd like to have a word with you, Mr. Meagher," I said, "if you don't bear too much of a grudge." "Why should I bear you a grudge?" he said. "You licked me, and licked me good. You left no argument as to who won that fight. If I ever bear you any grudge, it will be for the drinking and brawling record you're making, with never a thought of the manhood you're wasting." "It's easy for you to talk so--you that won what I'd die ten times over to get." "Die? You die? Give up your life? Why, you haven't even the courage to give up your consuming pride!" He looked at me and I at him. I was all but leaping for him. "Go ahead," he says, "beat me up again!" "You're my officer," I said.