ive the animals, and,
thereby, had received for himself.

What Michael did know was that Del Mar had no pedigree and was a scrub as
compared with thoroughbreds such as Steward, Captain Kellar, and _Mister_
Haggin of Meringe. And he learned it swiftly and simply. In the day-
time, fetched by a steward, Michael would be brought on deck to Del Mar,
who was always surrounded by effusive young ladies and matrons who
lavished caresses and endearments upon Michael. This he stood, although
much bored; but what irked him almost beyond standing were the feigned
caresses and endearments Del Mar lavished on him. He knew the
cold-blooded insincerity of them, for, at night, when he was brought to
Del Mar's room, he heard only the cold brittle tones, sensed only the
threat and the menace of the other's personality, felt, when touched by
the other's hand, only a stiffness and sharpness of contact that was like
to so much steel or wood in so far as all subtle tenderness of heart and
spirit was absent.

This man was two-faced, two-mannered. No thoroughbred was anything but
single-faced and single-mannered. A thoroughbred, hot-blooded as it
might be, was always sincere. But in this scrub was no sincerity, only a
positive insincerity. A thoroughbred had passion, because of its hot
blood; but this scrub had no passion. Its blood was cold as its
deliberateness, and it did nothing save deliberately. These things he
did not think. He merely realized them, as any creature realizes itself
in _liking_ and in not _liking_.

To cap it all, the last night on board, Michael lost his thoroughbred
temper with this man who had no temper. It came to a fight. And Michael
had no chance. He raged royally and fought royally, leaping to the
attack, after being knocked over twice by open-handed blows under his
ear. Quick as Michael was, slashing South Sea niggers by virtue of his
quickness and cleverness, he could not touch his teeth to the flesh of
this man, who had been trained for six years with animals by Harris
Collins. So that, when he leaped, open-mouthed, for the bite, Del Mar's
right hand shot out, gripped his under-jaw as he was in the air, and
flipped him over in a somersaulting fall to the floor on his back. Once
again he leapt open-mouthed to the attack, and was filliped to the floor
so hard that almost the last particle of breath was knocked out of him.
The next leap was nearly his last. He was clutched by the throat. Two
th