across to the
mate.

Just then a figure cut past him and made straight for the captain.
Farnum recognized in it the sailor whom he had left asleep in the
forecastle and even in that fleeting glance was aware of the man's livid
fury. Up the steps he went like a wild beast.

"What kind of a boat is this?" he panted hoarsely.

The captain turned toward him. His eyes were shining wickedly, but his
voice was ominously suave and honeyed. "This boat, son, is a threemasted
schooner, name of _Nancy Hanks_, Master Joshua Green, bound for the
Solomon Islands with a cargo of Oregon fir."

"I've been shanghaied. This is a nest of crimps," the man screamed.

Joshua Green's salient jaw came forward. "Been shanghaied, have you?
And we're a nest of crimps, are we? Son, the less I hear of that line of
talk the better. Put that in your pipe and smoke it."

The man turned loose a flood of profanity and swore he would rot in hell
before he would touch a rope on that ship.

Out went Green's great gnarled fist. The seaman shot back from the
quarterdeck and struck a pile of rope below. He was up again and down
again almost quicker than it takes to tell. Three times he hit the
planks before he lay still.

The captain stood over him, his eyes blazing. He looked the savage,
barbaric slavedriver he was.

"Me, I'm Bully Green, and don't you forget it. Been shanghaied, have
you? Not going to touch a rope? Then, by thunder, you white-livered
beachcomber, a rope will touch you till you're flayed. Get this in your
coconut. You'll walk chalk, you lazy son of a sea cook, or I'll haze
you till you wish you'd never been born." He punctuated his remarks with
vigorous kicks. "Bully Green runs this tub, strike me dead if he
don't. Now you hump for'ard and clap a hand to them sheets. Walk, you
shanghaied Dutchman!"

The sailor crawled away, completely cowed. For one day he had had more
than enough. The captain watched him for a moment, his great jaw thrust
grimly out. Then, as on a pivot, he whirled toward Jeff.

"Come here, you! Step lively, Sport!"

Farnum wondered whether he was about to undergo an experience similar to
that of the sailor. "Do you want to know what kind of a ship this is?"

"No, sir. I'm perfectly satisfied about that," smiled his victim.

"Got no opinions you want to hand out free, son?"

"Think I'll keep them bottled."

"Say 'sir,' Sport!"

"Yes, sir," answered Farnum, his quiet eyes steady and unafraid.

"When I gi