on by all
of them, which greatly helped, no doubt, to make their meaning clear.
At least it did not render it less clear. As the din and riot increased
so did the tendency to add fuel to the fire by deeper drinking, which
resulted in fiercer quarrelling.

At last one of the contending voices shouted so loud that the others for
a few moments gave way, and the words became audible to the little
listener on deck. The voice belonged to Gunter.

"You said," he shouted fiercely, "that I--"

"No, I didn't," retorted Brock, breaking in with a rather premature
contradiction.

"Hear him out. N-nothin' like fair play in ar-argiment," said an
extremely drunken voice.

"Right you are," cried another; "fire away, Gunter."

"You said," resumed Gunter with a little more of argument in his tone,
though still vehemently, "that I said--that--that--well, whativer it was
I said, I'll take my davy that I niver said anything o' the sort."

"That's a lie," cried Brock.

"You're another," shouted Gunter, and waved his hand contemptuously.

Whether it was accident or design we know not, but Gunter's hand knocked
the pipe out of Brook's mouth.

To Billy's ear the well-known sound of a blow followed, and he ran to
look down into the cabin, where all was instantly in an uproar.

"Choke him off," cried David Bright. "Knock his brains out," suggested
Herring. Billy could not see well through the dense smoke, but
apparently the more humane advice was followed, for, after a good deal
of gasping, a heavy body was flung upon the floor.

"All right, shove him into a bunk," cried the Swab.

At the same moment Ned Spivin sprang on deck, and, stretching himself
with his arms extended upwards, drew a long breath of fresh air.

"There, Billy," he said, "I've had enough of it."

"Of grog, d'ye mean?" asked the boy.

"No, but of the hell-upon-earth down there," replied the young man.

"Well, Ned, I should just think you _have_ had enough o' that," said
Billy, "an' of grog too--though you don't seem much screwed after all."

"I'm not screwed at all, Billy--not even half-seas-over. It's more the
smoke an' fumes that have choked me than the grog. Come, lad, let's go
for'ard an' git as far from it as we can."

The man and boy went to the bow of the vessel, and seated themselves
near the heel of the bowsprit, where the sounds from the cabin reached
them only as a faint murmur, and did not disturb the stillness of the
night.

And a day