ttered in helpless
bewilderment. "I was a-goin' to roll him, and now look here wot he has
done to me!"

At that moment a light appeared above as the hatch was raised, and Billy
saw the feet and legs of a large man descending the ladder from above.
When the newcomer reached the floor and turned to look about his eyes
met Billy's, and Billy saw that it was his host of the previous evening.

"Well, my hearty, how goes it?" asked the stranger.

"You pulled it off pretty slick," said Billy.

"What do you mean?" asked the other with a frown.

"Come off," said Billy; "you know what I mean."

"Look here," replied the other coldly. "Don't you forget that I'm mate
of this ship, an' that you want to speak respectful to me if you ain't
lookin' for trouble. My name's MR. Ward, an' when you speak to me say
SIR. Understand?"

Billy scratched his head, and blinked his eyes. He never before had
been spoken to in any such fashion--at least not since he had put on the
avoirdupois of manhood. His head ached horribly and he was sick to his
stomach--frightfully sick. His mind was more upon his physical suffering
than upon what the mate was saying, so that quite a perceptible interval
of time elapsed before the true dimensions of the affront to his dignity
commenced to percolate into the befogged and pain-racked convolutions of
his brain.

The mate thought that his bluster had bluffed the new hand. That was
what he had come below to accomplish. Experience had taught him that an
early lesson in discipline and subordination saved unpleasant encounters
in the future. He also had learned that there is no better time to put
a bluff of this nature across than when the victim is suffering from the
after-effects of whiskey and a drug--mentality, vitality, and courage
are then at their lowest ebb. A brave man often is reduced to the
pitiful condition of a yellow dog when nausea sits astride his stomach.

But the mate was not acquainted with Billy Byrne of Kelly's gang.
Billy's brain was befuddled, so that it took some time for an idea to
wriggle its way through, but his courage was all there, and all to the
good. Billy was a mucker, a hoodlum, a gangster, a thug, a tough. When
he fought, his methods would have brought a flush of shame to the face
of His Satanic Majesty. He had hit oftener from behind than from before.
He had always taken every advantage of size and weight and numbers that
he could call to his assistance. He was an insulter o