ed for the boy's life. It was
against his principle of dead men telling no tales that he should be
spared; and, again, he hated Ben, and the mere fact of his being
interested in Eric was quite sufficient to cause the innocent lad to
get a share of that hatred.

In the days that followed, Eric could not fail to be conscious of the
frequency with which the ruffian's one eye was turned upon him, and of
the hyena-like look with which it regarded him. Happy for him was it
that there was a restraining influence which kept that awful look from
finding its way into fitting deed.

Though they did not distinctly recognize any leader--their motto being
each man for himself, and one as good as another--the wreckers regarded
Ben with a respect accorded no other member of the motley crew. This
was in part due to his great size and strength, and in part to his
taciturn, self-contained ways, which prevented any of that familiarity
that so quickly breeds contempt.

Evil-Eye feared Ben no less than he hated him, and dared not openly
attempt anything against him, although the fire of his fury burned
hotly within his breast. In this fear of Ben, much more than in the
decision of the other wreckers, lay Eric's safety. Ere long, this
defence was strengthened in a manner most strange, startling, and
happily most effective.

A week of almost incessant stormy weather had compelled the wreckers to
spend most of their time in the hut. Finding the hours hang heavy on
their hands, many of them had sought solace in drink, of which the
_Francis's_ fine stock of wines and liquors furnished an unstinted
supply. No one drank more deeply than Evil-Eye. Day after day was
passed in a state alternating between coarse hilarity and maudlin
stupor; Ben, on the other hand, hardly touched the liquor, contenting
himself with sipping a little at his meals. It was well, indeed, that
he should be so moderate, for his cool head and strong hand were in
demand more than once to prevent serious conflicts among his
intoxicated companions.

Eric, in spite of the stormy weather, kept as much out of doors as
possible. He preferred the buffeting of the wintry winds to the close
atmosphere of the hut, foul with oaths, and reeking with tobacco and
spirits.

Evil-Eye's carouse had continued several days. Early one night, after
he had fallen into a sottish sleep upon his bunk, and the others had,
later on, one by one turned in for the night, leaving the room i