ed about in congratulation and good-humored banter.
Everybody was glad of the boy's success, he was an all round favorite,
and some of the men who had won his money felt relieved to return it.

"Here's your cocktail, Freddy," cried Glass, "and here's to you!"

Reynolds stood in the midst of the crowd, his face flushed, his hair
tumbled. With a quick movement he sent the glass and its contents
spinning out of a near-by port-hole.

"Not for Frederick!" he said with emphasis, "I've been that particular
kind of a fool for the last time."

Some hours later when the crowd went below to dress for dinner, Reynolds
dropped behind to ask the Second Officer about the man who had been
rescued.

"He is still pretty full of salt water," said the Officer, "but he is
being bailed out."

"How did it happen?" asked Reynolds.

"Give it up. He hasn't spoken yet. It looks as if he were getting ready
to do some outside cleaning, for he had on a life-preserver. Funny thing
about it, though, that's not his work. He's not even on duty during the
starboard watch. The man in the lookout saw him climb out on the bow,
shout something up to him, then fall backward into the water. I'll be
hanged if I can make it out. Tsang Foo is one of the steadiest sailors
on board."

"Tsang Foo!" shouted Reynolds. "You don't mean that man was Tsang?"

With headlong haste he seized the bewildered officer and made him pilot
him below decks. Stumbling down the ladders and through dark passages,
he at last reached the bunk where Tsang Foo lay with the ship's surgeon
and a steward in attendance.

The Chinaman's lips were drawn tightly back over his prominent teeth,
and his breath came in irregular gasps. Across the pillow in a straight
black line lay his dripping queque. As his eyelids fluttered feebly, the
doctor straightened his own tired back.

"He'll come round now, all right," he said to the steward. "Give him
those drops and don't talk to him. He's had a close call. I'll be back
in ten minutes."

Reynolds crowded into the narrow apace the doctor had left. The fact
that he was saved from disgrace was utterly blotted out by the bigger
fact that this ignorant, uncouth, foreign sailor had fearlessly risked
his life to save him from facing a merited punishment. Reynolds's very
soul seemed to grow bigger to accommodate the thought.

"Tsang!" he whispered, seizing the yellow hand, "You are a brick! Number
one good man. But my no can take money,--I--"