nty of sea-room. No ruffling or swaggering in his direction.
No gibes or practical jokes. The bludgeon-like wit of the house very
carefully passed him by. For he was so plainly a desperate man.

"He's a bad one," whispered the Jewess to me, lifting an eye towards
the lonely table. "He has the house bluffed. Bet you the Swede
doesn't try any of his tricks with him. He's a real bad one. Wonder
who he is?"

I openly admired the man. I'd have given my soul almost to own his
manner. The careless yet grand air of the man, the something about him
that lifted him above the rest of us--aye, he was the real hero, he was
the sort of hard case I wanted to be.

"I know he's a sailorman by the cut of his jib," I said. "But he is so
pale--and that scar--I guess he is just out of the hospital. Been
sick, or hurt, most likely."

The woman gave me a pitying look that set my teeth on edge. She was
continually marveling over my innocence, and I didn't relish being
innocent. "Just out of hospital!" she mocked. "You certainly haven't
been around places like this very much or you would know."

"Know what?" I demanded.

She shook her head, and looked serious. "No, I'll not preach, not even
to you. And I like him--because he saved you."

Next morning the Swede interrupted his knitting long enough to toss my
last ten dollars across the bar. "Ay tank you ship now?" says he.

The huskies who were gathered about the room immediately chorused their
disapproval. "Oh, give the poor beggar a chance!" they sang out. "Let
him rest up a spell, Swede!" But the Swede had gauged me correctly.
He knew I would not want to stay on the beach after my money was spent.

"I am ready to ship," I told him, "but, remember this, Swede, in a ship
of my own choosing."

He grinned widely, and showed his whole mouthful of yellow teeth. His
baby stare rested appreciatively upon me, as though I had just cracked
an excellent joke. "Oh, _ja_, you pick him yourself," he chortled.
"Mineself get you good ship, easy ship. No bucko, no hardtack, good
pay, soft time, by Yimminy!"

His mirthful humor abruptly vanished. He leaned towards me, and the
lids of his little round eyes slowly lifted. It was like the lifting
of curtains. For an instant I looked into the unplumbed abyss of the
man's soul, and I felt the full impact of his ruthless, powerful mind.
It was an astonishing revelation of character, that glance. I think
the Swede designed it so