"Keep this," said Sailmaker, as he handed it to me, "as evidence that you have already crossed the line, and you will never be shaved with tar and a wooden razor again. You are now a full-fledged son of Neptune." * * * * * On a ship at sea where the work to do never ends, it is a serious matter if one of the crew does not know his work, or fails to hold up his end. That means that there is so much more work to be done by the others. Franz deliberately shirked. And, as far as I could see, he purposely got in bad with the mates, under whom he had approximately sixty days more of pulling and hauling, going up aloft, scrubbing, and chipping to do. I was puzzled at the steadfast, deliberate malingering of the man. The crew all hated him, too. I have seen the man at the wheel deliberately deflect the ship from its course, in order to bring the wind against the mutineer's belly, hoping to have him blown overboard while he was running aloft.... And one night, in the forecastle, someone hurled a shoe at him. A blow so savagely well-aimed, that when he came running aft, howling with pain (for, for all his obstinacy, he seemed to lack courage)--to complain of the outrage, to Schantze--his eye popped out so far that it seemed as if leaping out of its socket! It was ghastly and bloody like a butchered heart. Later, I asked the sailors why this had been done to Franz. And Klumpf said-- "We had a scuffle over something. We were all taking it friendly ... and Franz bit Klaus through the hand, almost ... then someone threw a shoe and hit him in the eye".... * * * * * In about a week, after his eye had healed just a little, I drew Franz apart. We sat down together on the main hatch. I was worried about him. I did not understand him. I was sorry for him. "Look here, Franz ... don't you know you might get put clean out of business if you keep this mutiny of one up much longer? You can't whip a whole ship's crew." "I don't want to whip a whole ship's crew." "The captain had to have another man in a hurry, you know ... but he's really willing to give you decent treatment." "Did the captain send you to tell me this?" "Of course not ... only I'm sorry for you." Franz gave me a broad, inexplicable wink. He smiled grotesquely--from swollen lips made more grotesque because of a recent punch in the mouth "Sailmaker" had fetched him.... "Don't trouble yourself about me. I know what I'm doing, my boy." "What do you mean?" "I mean that, as soon as I came out of my drunk, and found myself shanghaied, I _wanted_ them to ill-treat me ... there's a Sailors' Aid Society at Sydney, you know!" "What good will the Sailors' Aid Society do you?" "You just wait and see what good it will do me!" "Nonsense, Franz! The captain's willing to pay you off at Sydney."