owed condition, set up such a bedlam of noise that
the guard began to look furtively up the passage, and to shout at the
ruffians.

Suddenly he was whirled aside, and a figure in uniform, moving with
uncanny speed for a man so massive, appeared upon the platform and
bounded down the ladder. He was among the struggling men on the floor
in a moment, and became a maze of flailing arms and legs. Like
ten-pins the pirates scattered, and the giant pulled off the mate.
Gore could not see, but as he writhed he knew he was in the grip of
the pirate captain. Captain Strom's harsh, ascetic face was dangerous,
and his steely gray eyes compelling. The men managed slovenly salutes.

"Gore," Strom snapped, "have your men get some water and mop up this
blood. How many times have I told you to quit mauling the prisoners?
D'ye think I'm in this business to provide amusement for you?
Henceforth keep out of this hold. Hear?"

"Yes, sir," Gore muttered sullenly.

"Took five of you bums to handle him, did it?" Strom remarked
sardonically, stooping to pick up the unconscious Quirl. He carried
him easily, up the ladder. As they disappeared Strom's voice boomed
out:

"Dr. Stoddard! Stoddard! Messenger, have Stoddard report at my cabin."

* * * * *

The mate was wiping the blood off his face with a rag.

"I tried to call yer," the guard whined.

"That tears it!" Gore exclaimed fiercely, bursting into a string of
abuse. But one of his henchmen nudged him.

"Keep yer tongue in yer face, Gore, till the time comes."

Gore said nothing, but glared savagely at the prisoners.

"Get the buckets and mops!" he snarled at his men, and they fled
precipitately.

A long, wailing noise came through the hatch:

"Soopson! S-o-o-pson!"

"Here comes yer grub, damn you," Gore growled at the prisoners in
general. A shuffling sound followed the singsong call, and then a
"galley boy" of forty years or so, badly crippled by club-feet,
shuffled up to the hatch and laboriously let himself down to the
platform. The huge bowl of stew he was carrying was far too heavy for
him, and his strained, thin face was beady with sweat.

"Get a move on, Sorko!" Gore bellowed up at him. "Get your swill down
here. Some o' these swine are goin' short this time, anyway."

Sorko set the big bowl down at the top of the steps and began to
descend backward. Then he resumed his burden.

But he was nervous, and had barely started when his cr