"An anarchist! How interesting! I have ALWAYS wanted to
meet an anarchist."

"Poor boy, he don't look like nothin' bad," said Cap'n Abernethy, who
seemed to have taken a fancy to Giuseppe Jones.

"Listen," said Cleggett, and read:

"As for your flag, I spit upon your flag!
I spit upon your organized society anywhere and everywhere;
I spit upon your churches;
I spit upon your capitalistic institutions;
I spit upon your laws;
I spit upon the whole damned thing!
But, as I spit, I weep! I weep!"

"How silly!" said Lady Agatha. "What does it mean?"

"It means----" began Cleggett, and then stopped. The book of
revolutionary verse, taken in conjunction with the red flag that had
been displayed and then withdrawn, made him wonder if Morris's were the
headquarters of some band of anarchists.

But, if so, why should this band show such an interest in the Jasper
B.? An interest so hostile to her present owner and his men?

"If you was to ask me what it means," said Captain Abernethy, who had
taken the book and was fingering it, "I'd say it means young Jones here
has fell into bad company. That don't explain how he sneaked into the
hold of the Jasper B., nor what for. But he orter have a doctor."

"He shall have a physician," said Cleggett. "In fact, the Jasper B.
needs a ship's doctor."

"It looks to me," said Captain Abernethy, "as if she did. And if you
was to go further, Mr. Cleggett, and say that it looks as if she was
liable to need a couple o' trained nurses, too, I'd say to you that if
they's goin' to be many o' these kind o' goin's-on aboard of her she
DOES need a couple of trained nurses."

"Captain," said Cleggett, "you are a humane man--let me shake your
hand. You have voiced my very thought!"

Long ago Cleggett had resolved that if Chance or Providence should ever
gratify his secret wish to participate in stirring adventures, he would
see to it that all his wounded enemies, no matter how many there might
be of them, received adequate medical attention. He had often been
shocked at the callousness with which so many of the heroes of romance
dash blithely into the next adventure--though those whom they have
seriously injured lie on all sides of them as thick as autumn
leaves--with only the most perfunctory consideration of these victims;
sometimes, indeed, with no thought of them at all.

"Something tells me," said Cleggett seriously, "that t