But did he? Even as he forgot and called his heart’s desire, which was the life of the second mate, even then, without intention, mechanically, his sailor’s considerative eye lifted to note the draw of the sails and roved from sail to sail. Thereupon, so reminded, he returned to his fidelity. “Well?” he snarled at Bert Rhine. “Go on and get for’ard before I spit on you, you scum and slum. I’ll give you and the rest of the rats two minutes to return to duty.” And the leader, with his two fellow-gangsters, laughed their weird, silent laughter. “I guess you’ll listen to our talk, first, old horse,” Bert Rhine retorted. “—Davis, get up now and show what kind of a spieler you are. Don’t get cold feet. Spit it out to Foxy Grandpa an’ tell ’m what’s doin’.” “You damned sea-lawyer!” Mr. Pike snarled as Davis opened his mouth to speak. Bert Rhine shrugged his shoulders, and half turned on his heel as if to depart, as he said quietly: “Oh, well, if you don’t want to talk . . . ” Mr. Pike conceded a point. “Go on!” he snarled. “Spit the dirt out of your system, Davis; but remember one thing: you’ll pay for this, and you’ll pay through the nose. Go on!” The sea-lawyer cleared his throat in preparation. “First of all, I ain’t got no part in this,” he began. “I’m a sick man, an’ I oughta be in my bunk right now. I ain’t fit to be on my feet. But they’ve asked me to advise ’em on the law, an’ I have advised ’em—” “And the law—what is it?” Mr. Pike broke in. But Davis was uncowed. “The law is that when the officers is inefficient, the crew can take charge peaceably an’ bring the ship into port. It’s all law an’ in the records. There was the _Abyssinia_, in eighteen ninety-two, when the master’d died of fever and the mates took to drinkin’—” “Go on!” Mr. Pike shut him off. “I don’t want your citations. What d’ye want? Spit it out.” “Well—and I’m talkin’ as an outsider, as a sick man off duty that’s been asked to talk—well, the point is our skipper was a good one, but he’s gone. Our mate is violent, seekin’ the life of the second mate. We don’t care about that. What we want is to get into port with our lives. An’ our lives is in danger. We ain’t hurt nobody. You’ve done all the bloodshed. You’ve shot an’ killed an’ thrown two men overboard, as witnesses’ll testify to in court. An’ there’s Roberts, there, dead, too, an’ headin’ for the sharks—an’ what for? For defendin’ himself from murderous an’ deadly attack, as every man can testify an’ tell the truth, the whole truth, an’ nothin’ but the truth, so help ’m, God—ain’t that right, men?” A confused murmur of assent arose from many of them. “You want my job, eh?” Mr. Pike grinned. “An’ what are you goin’ to do with me?” “You’ll be taken care of until we get in an’ turn you over to the lawful authorities,” Davis answered promptly. “Most likely you can plead insanity an’ get off easy.”