"I'll give you a thousand," said Smith desperately. "At four o'clock you're goin' on the _'Arvester_--and 'tis nigh on three now. Sant wouldn't miss a man like you, so smart and 'andy, for all the gold in Californy. Own up as you shanghaied the admiral?" Smith grasped at any chance of avoiding the _Harvester_. For Sant had a dreadful name, and both his mates were terrors. "If I own I put him away, will you take me ashore and hand me over to the police?" He was almost in a state of collapse. Benson looked at the man, and in the faint light of far-off day still below the horizon the boat's crew saw him wink. "We'll vote on it, if you owns up. What d'ye say, chaps?" "Aye, we'll vote," said the men. "Say, did you do it?" But Smith saw how the voting would go, and refused to speak. They heard six bells come across the water from many ships. And then they heard seven. There was a grey glint in the east. The sand-dunes on the verge of the Ocean Park whitened as they pulled for the _Harvester_. They heard the clank of her windlass brakes and the bull voice of her mate, as he encouraged his men to do their best by threatening them with three months of hell afloat. Smith offered Benson two thousand dollars. "I wouldn't part with you except to Sant for all you ever robbed men of," said Benson--"and what that is, on'y you knows. Pull, boys; her cable's up and down. No, hold on a moment; he must be wet, of course." In spite of his struggles they put him over the side and soused him thoroughly. When they pulled him on board again, he sat cursing. "Now, boys, bend your backs." And when he came up alongside the _Harvester_ she was just moving under the draught of her loosed topsails. "_Harvester_, ahoy!" cried Benson. "Hallo!" said Sant. "What is it?" "You don't happen to have lost one of your crew, tryin' to desert by swimmin', sir?" "Have you picked him up? What's his name, does he say?" "It's Smith, sir." "That's the man," said Sant. "I want him badly." But Smith cried out: "This is kidnappin', Mr. Sant. I refuse to go." "Oh, Smith," said Sant, "I'll take all the chances of it's bein' anythin' you like. Throw them a rope." And the _Triumphants_ towed alongside. "Up you go," said Benson. "I won't," said Smith. "Won't you?" asked Benson. "We'll see about that. Hook on there, Billings." And the next moment Smith was jammed in a running bowline round his waist. "Sway him up," said Benson; and the crew of the _Harvester_ hoisted the notorious robber with about the only feelings of pleasure they were likely to know till they reached New York. And the _Triumphants_ pushed off as they heard the mate address Mr. Smith in language which did his reputation and the reputation of the ship most ample justice.