While our port watch crowd had at first thought themselves the losers in the choice of officers, we soon realized that we were being favored in many ways, mainly because of the superior ability of the mate. He cursed unmercifully and made no bones about cuffing some of the crew in a playful sort of fashion, accompanied with some ribald jest that was meant to carry off the sting of a heavy blow, yet he managed to give us the advantage in most operations requiring all hands. He never hesitated to rouse out the starboard watch an hour ahead of time when a sudden shortening of sail demanded all hands. On these occasions we would work like fury and get below with the loss of a half hour's less sleep than the other watch. Ill feeling among the men of the second mate's watch became more and more apparent as these tactics continued, and the talk in the fo'c'sle had it that the second mate was afraid to stand up for his rights. He was accordingly blamed for every trouble forward, so far as his own watch was concerned. Things culminated in the wake of a squall that struck us soon after passing the River Plate. The tops'l yards having been lowered to the caps, we were called out near the end of the afternoon watch to man tops'l halyards. Tony, of the starboard watch, was "beforehand" with Axel and the second mate, on the main tops'l halyards. The rest of the ship's company tailed along the deck from the lead block bending their "beef" on the rope to the refrain of "Ranzo, boys, Ranzo." The deck was slippery with the wet, and a high sea, in which the _Fuller_ wallowed without sail enough to steady her, made footing precarious. At the order "Belay!" given by the mate, and the sharp "Come up behind" of the second officer, Tony failed to hold on to the rope, and the consequence was a slight loss as the man next the lead block hitched the halyard over the pin. "You lazy dago ---- ---- ---- ----! Why did you let go that rope?" shouted Mr. Stoddard, at the same time making a lunge for Tony and smashing him on the side of the face with his fist. The Dago blocked as best he could, and the second mate drove home a second blow on the Dago's nose. Tony clinched, the blood spurted right and left as they went to the deck, rolling over and over, first one on top and then the other. "What's this?" shouted the mate. "You dirty bum, ---- ---- you!" he exploded, jumping into the scramble, while all hands lined up in a threatening attitude, determined to see some sort of fair play.