d, glue-eyed squid you,
whoever goes, you go first. Mind that--whatever happens, _you_ go first.
I've got _you_, you pop-eyed, slit-mouthed dogfish--and now shoot
again."

The man with the revolver shrank back; but Leary's pistol was still
trained on him, and farther and farther he shrank until he melted into
the body of the crowd.

In the rear of the crowd were those who struggled to get nearer. "Why
don't you go after him down there?" they yelled. "Or let us do it? One
man against you all! Why don't you pull him out of the dory?"

"Ay, pull him out! Send him to hell!" roared another.

"Well, send me to hell," retorted Leary--"maybe I've got friends in
hell, too!"

Back onto the beach receded the mob. Leary turned to his mate. "To the
vessel, Tim--and drive her!"

By the time they reached the vessel's deck the injured man came to. A
cup of coffee and five minutes by the fire and he was ready to turn to,
but Leary turned him into a bunk instead. "We've men enough without
you--a full crew. Lie down, boy, and go to sleep." Which he did.

"Now, fellows, make sail. Drive her. The trader an' that whole crowd,
they'll be after us soon in their jacks. Come on--lively--there's thirty
sail of 'em ready to round the point! An', Tim?"

"Ay, Sammie."

"Get out that old salutin' six-pounder and lash it for'ard o' the
windlass. Lash her hard so she won't kick overboard when she's fired."

"Ay, Sammie," and Lacy hurried off.

"And now, up with the jibs. And then mains'l--we've lost a lot of time
already. With her four lowers and those squalls shootin' off the high
hills from the other side of the bay, she'll soon have wind enough. And
we've got to be out of here before the snow sets in. A bad place here in
thick weather. Drive her, fellows--drive her!"

They were swaying up the mainsail when Leary happened to look over his
shoulder. With the wind of the frequently recurring squalls taking hold
of the great sail, they had a hard task to get it up; but at last it was
set; and then they trimmed in the main-sheet, while Leary ran forward to
the howitzer.

"What you got to load it with, Tim?"

"There's black powder enough, Sammie."

"But we want to do something more than salute 'em, Tim."

"M-m--there's the soundin' leads, Sammie."

"Get 'em!" And Tim went and came back with a deep-sea lead which he
rammed in after a hatful or so of powder.

When all was ready four inches of the lead stuck out of the muzzle.

"No m