e this must have its full complement of stokers, otherwise she can't
get up enough steam, and the record suffers. That's why they take the
trouble to go after deserters. They say that this fellow deserves no
sympathy. He's a good-for-nothing, brutal, violent fellow. Here he
comes now."

"I'd like to see him!" exclaimed Grace, pushing forward to get a closer
view of the group of men as they came struggling up the gangplank.

"Oh, Grace, how can you look at such horrid sights?" ejaculated Mrs.
Stuart, fanning herself nervously and averting her face.

The prisoner by this time was nearly exhausted, and presented a sorry
sight. His grease-stained clothes were torn to rags, his hair was
disheveled, blood flowed freely from a cut on his cheek, making all the
more striking the contrast with his white, set face and its grim,
hopeless expression.

[Illustration: IT WAS ALL THEY COULD DO TO DRAG HIM ON BOARD.]

Armitage knew he was beaten. His strength and determination had availed
him nothing, yet he was still full of fight. It was all they could do to
drag him on board inch by inch. As they reached the deck, and he
realized that once more the ship had enslaved him, a hoarse cry of
despair escaped his lips. With a last superhuman effort, he shook
himself free. One of his captors was hurled to the left, the other sent
flying to the right. His fists shot out, and a third officer fell like
a log. For a moment he was free, and, surprised at his success, he stood
triumphant over their prostrate forms, just as a gladiator, doomed to
die, might tower for a few brief seconds above his worsted foes. His
fists clenched, his shapely head thrown back, every muscle taut, his
eyes flashing, chest heaving, he resembled a classic hero battling with
pigmies.

"Isn't he handsome!" exclaimed Grace.

"Aye, miss," grinned the voluble sailor. "That's wot we call
'im--Handsome Jack. Sometimes it's Gentleman Jack, cause of 'is fine
manners; but 'ee's only a stoker, just the same."

The officers regained their feet and again sprang at their prisoner. The
passengers fell back alarmed.

"Come here, Grace!" cried Mr. Harmon uneasily. "You'll get hurt."

But there was no danger. More officers and sailors ran quickly up, and
confronted by such re-enforcements, the fireman stood no chance. Before
he had time to take advantage of his temporary victory, he was again
overpowered and dragged without further ado in the direction of the
forecastle. Grac