aused, apprehending his meaning with a start.

"Oh, it's all right," he growled, and began to saw at the rope in his
hand, while the Greek watched him with his fixed, bony smile.

"No," said the latter suddenly. "Dat-a not sharp--no! Look-a 'ere;
you see dis?"

He drew his own knife, and showed it pointing towards Conroy in a
damp, swarthy hand, whose knuckles bulged above the haft. His rough,
spatulate thumb rasped along it, drawing from it the crepitation that
proves an acute edge.

"Carve him like-a da pork," he said, in his stage-conspirator's
whisper. "And da point--now, see!"

He glanced over his shoulder to be sure that none overlooked them;
then, with no more than a jerk of his hand beside his hip, threw the
keen blade toward the wooden door of the bo'sun's locker. It traveled
through the air swiftly and stuck, quivering on its thin point, in
the stout teak. The Greek turned his smile again for a moment on
Conroy before he strode across and recovered it.

"You take 'im," he whispered. "Better dan your little knife--yais."

By the mere urgency of his proffering it the exchange was made, and
Conroy found himself with a knife in his hand that fell through the
strands of the manila line as though they had been butter, an
instrument made and perfected for a murder.

"Yes, but look here----" he began, in alarm.

The broad, mirthless smile was turned on him.

"Just like-a da pork," purred the Greek, and nodded assuringly before
he turned to go aft.

The bull-roar of the mate, who was awaiting his return with the rope-
yarns, roused Conroy from a scared reverie over the knife. He
started; the mate was bustling furiously forward in search of him,
full of uproar and anger.

"Dam' lazy schwein, you goin' to schleep dere? You vant me to come
an' fetch you?? You vant anodder schmack on de maul to keep you
avake--yes?"

He stamped into view round the forward house, while Conroy stood,
convicted of idleness by the rope in his hand only half cut through.
At the same moment a population of faces came into being behind him.
A man who had been aloft shuffled down to the rail; a couple of
others came into view on the deck; on top of the house, old Slade
kneeled to see under the break of the forecastle head. It seemed as
though a skeptical audience had suddenly been created out of his
boast of the morning, every face threatening him with that shame
which vanity will die rather than endure. In a panic of his facultie