ms of New York and London he had listened gloomily to the wild-eyed
orators' frenzied teachings of class-hatred. His sufferings had
embittered him against the whole human race. He had fought his way
through it all fiercely, because the whole world seemed in league
against him, every man and woman his enemy. The only law he knew was
that enforced by a strong arm. The weaker had no rights. It wasn't his
fault if he had to defend himself. He had given the world back what it
gave him and with interest. That's why he hit back every time blindly,
savagely.

With an unsteady hand, he took up the whiskey-bottle and started to
refill his glass. His back was partly toward the door, so he could not
see the front store suddenly darken by the abrupt entrance of four men
who pushed their way unceremoniously past Schmalz and rushed into the
room where he was sitting. Two of the newcomers were ship's officers,
the others were policemen.

Armitage was taken completely by surprise. He knew at once that they had
come for him. With an oath, he jumped to his feet and his right hand
went quickly to his hip pocket. But before he could draw his gun, the
officers and policemen threw themselves upon him and pinioned his arms.

"You'd better come quickly, Armitage, or it'll go harder with you!" said
the senior officer sternly.

"What d'ye want with me?" demanded the fireman hoarsely.

"You're under arrest for desertion," replied his superior.

"Where d'ye want me to go?" stammered Armitage, his breath coming and
going in short, spasmodic gasps.

"Back to the ship. Not as you're much good--only to give you your
medicine," was the laconic rejoinder.

"Back to the ship! Never while I live!" shouted the big fellow.

By a superhuman muscular effort he threw off his four captors as easily
as if they had been children, and made a dash for liberty through the
store. But he was not yet clear of his foes. Seeing him coming, Schmalz
quickly put out his foot, and the fugitive fell all his length to the
floor. Before he could scramble to his feet again, the policemen were
upon him, and soon had his arms securely pinioned.

"Quick, back to the ship with him!" commanded the senior officer. "She
sails in ten minutes. We've just time to make it!"

CHAPTER II.

The scene on the dock just before sailing-time of an ocean liner is
always an animated one, full of interest and color for those having eyes
to see. The huge steamer, freshly painted,