ve an order you expect to jump?"

"Jump isn't the word."

"Sir!" thundered Green, and "Sir" the newspaper man corrected himself.

"Got no story to spiel about being shanghaied, son?"

"Would it do any good, sir?"

"Not unless you're aching to get what that son of a Dutchman got. See
here, sport! You walk the chalk line, and Bully Green and you'll get
along fine. I'm a lamb, I am, when I'm not riled. But get gay--and
you'll have a hectic time. I'll rough you till you're shark-food. Get
that through your teeth?"

"Yes, sir."

"Now you trot down to the fo'c'sle and dive into them slops you find
there. You got just three minutes to do the dress-suit act."

Jeff, as he passed below, could hear the great bull voice roaring orders
to the men. "Set y'r topsails! Jam 'er down hard, Johnnie Dago! Stand
by, you lubbers!... Now then, easy does it... easy!"

Within the allotted three minutes Farnum had climbed into the foul
oilskin coat and tarry breeches he found below and was ready for orders.

"Clap on to that windlass, sport! No loafing here.... Hump y'rself. D'ye
hear me? Hump?"

Jeff threw his one hundred and fifty pounds of bone and muscle against
the crank of the windlass. Some men would have fought first as long
as they could stand and see. Others would have begged, argued, or
threatened. But Jeff had schooled himself to master impulses of rage.
He knew when to fight and when to yield. Nor did he give way sullenly or
passionately. It was an outrage--highhanded tyranny--but at the worst
it was a magnificent adventure. As he flung his weight into the crank he
smiled.

Part 2

Before the trade winds the _Nancy Hanks_ foamed along day after day, all
sails set, making excellent time. But for his anxiety as to the effect
his disappearance would have upon the political situation, Jeff would
have enjoyed immensely the wild rough life aboard the schooner. But he
could not conceal from himself the interpretation of his absence the
machine agents would scatter broadcast. He foresaw a reaction against
his bill and its probable defeat.

The issue was on the knees of chance. The fact that could not be
obliterated was that he had been wiped from the slate until after the
legislature would adjourn. For every hour was carrying him farther from
the scene of action.

His only hope was that the _Nancy Hanks_ might put in at the Hawaiian
Islands, from which place he might get a chance to write, or, better
still, to cable t