But this the captain could not do. So often had he fought and won in the past, so invariably had his bull strength served him well, that he could not believe that he had at last met one who could withstand him. Wild with rage, he spent himself against the impenetrable defense of the naval officer until the second round ended with the odds of the fight in favor of the latter. So plain was this that Gallegher urged treachery, only to be repelled; not yet would Forbes admit the possibility of defeat. “Naw! I’ll kill him myself,” he muttered hoarsely, as, red-eyed, he stumbled forward once more to the attack. Howard met him with changed tactics. Jackson’s trained eye had read the signs, and he had counselled the officer wisely. “Rush him,” he had said. “Rush him. He’s all in. Don’t give him time to get his second wind. Rush him.” And Howard obeyed, drawing on some fount of nervous energy for a fury of attack almost as violent as Forbes’s had been. The fighting rage was on him at last, and bubbled over in words. “So you’ll persecute a helpless woman, will you,” he jeered, as he handed a jolt on the captain’s cheek. “How do you like to face a man? Oh! never mind that eye; you’ve got one left. Don’t worry about your nose; it’ll straighten out again. Here’s one for your solar plexus. Why don’t you guard better? And here’s the end of the show.” With every ounce of his weight behind it, he drove his left against the point of the captain’s chin, and that individual went down like a pole-axed ox and lay still. As he fell Gallegher sprang forward, belaying-pin in hand, but shrank back again as Jackson shoved his revolver into his face. “Hold hard!” cried the policeman. “Fair play, ain’t it, mates?” For an instant the situation hung in the wind as the sailors hesitated. Then Joyce sang out: “Fair play!” he cried. “The cap’n said he should have fair play. And hurrah for Lootenant Howard, says I.” Sailors are like children; a straw will turn them. With one accord they burst into a cheer. “It was a good fight,” they cried. “The lieutenant’s won the girl fair.” While they had hesitated Howard had acted. He was under no illusions as to the permanency of their mood, and, even as they cheered him, he turned to Dorothy. “Quick!” he whispered. “Don’t lose a moment. Come, Jackson! Get Miss Fairfax out of this and back to the Queen. I’ll cover your retreat.” But escape was not to be so easy. As Howard turned to face the sailors, Forbes struggled to his feet. His face was gray with rage and his words came thick. “You’ve won,” he gritted. “You’ve won. Take your prize.” Then his eyes fell on Dorothy and Jackson, now close to the edge of the deck. “Stop those two!” he yelled. “By Heaven, no one shall say Peter Forbes does not play fair. She’s chosen you, you infernal convict, and marry you she shall, here and now.” Howard faced him. “I refuse,” he declared. “Miss Fairfax owes me nothing. I give her back her promise.”