ked.

"Ever since the Mouse got hurt, Sullivan's acted queer, just like a
woman."

"Get to your quarters, Sullivan," the chief ordered. "We'll take care of
this man."

Dan's hands closed; for an instant he glared rebellion from blood-shot
eyes. Then the iron law of sea discipline conquering, he turned to
Larry.

"The Blessed Virgin aise you, poor Mouse!" he mumbled huskily and
slouched out through the door.

* * *

At midday the _San Gardo's_ captain got a shot at the sun. Though his
vessel had been headed steadily northeast for more than thirty hours,
the observation showed that she had made twenty-eight miles sternway to
the southwest. By two in the afternoon the wind had dropped to half a
gale, making a change of course possible. The captain signaled full
speed ahead, and the ship, swinging about, began limping across the
gulf, headed once more toward Galveston.

Neville, who had slept like a stone, came on deck just before sunset.
The piled-up seas, racing along the side, had lost their breaking
crests; the ship rose and fell with some degree of regularity. He called
the boatswain and went to the store-room.

They found Larry in one of his conscious moments.

"Well, Mouse, we're going to fix you in a better place," the engineer
called with what heart he could show.

"Thank you kindly, sir," Larry managed to answer; "but 't is my last
voyage, Mr. Neville." And the grit that lay hidden in the man's soul
showed in his pain-twisted smile.

They carried him up the last flight of iron stairs to the deck. Clear of
the engine-room, the boatswain turned toward the bow.

"No. The other way, Boson," Neville ordered.

The chief, passing them, stopped.

"Where are you taking him, Mr. Neville?"

"The poor fellow's dying, sir," Neville answered in a low voice.

"Well, where are you taking him?" the chief persisted.

"I'd like to put him in my room, sir."

"A stoker in officers' quarters!" The chief frowned. "Sunday-school
discipline!" He disappeared through the engine-room door, slamming it
after him.

They did what they could, these seamen, for the injured man; on
freighters one of the crew has no business to get hurt. They laid Larry
in Neville's berth and went out, leaving a sailor to watch over him.

The sun rose the next day in a cloudless sky, and shone on a brilliant
sea of tumbling, white-capped waves. Far off the starboard bow floated a
thin line of smoke from a tug's funnel, the first sign to t