up the corpse.
"Johansen, do you know anything about navigation?"

"No, sir,"

"Well, never mind; you're mate just the same. Get your traps aft into
the mate's berth."

"Ay, ay, sir," was the cheery response, as Johansen started forward.

In the meantime the erstwhile cabin-boy had not moved. "What are you
waiting for?" Wolf Larsen demanded.

"I didn't sign for boat-puller, sir," was the reply. "I signed for
cabin-boy. An' I don't want no boat-pullin' in mine."

"Pack up and go for'ard."

This time Wolf Larsen's command was thrillingly imperative. The boy
glowered sullenly, but refused to move.

Then came another stirring of Wolf Larsen's tremendous strength. It was
utterly unexpected, and it was over and done with between the ticks of
two seconds. He had sprung fully six feet across the deck and driven his
fist into the other's stomach. At the same moment, as though I had been
struck myself, I felt a sickening shock in the pit of my stomach. I
instance this to show the sensitiveness of my nervous organization at the
time, and how unused I was to spectacles of brutality. The
cabin-boy--and he weighed one hundred and sixty-five at the very
least--crumpled up. His body wrapped limply about the fist like a wet
rag about a stick. He lifted into the air, described a short curve, and
struck the deck alongside the corpse on his head and shoulders, where he
lay and writhed about in agony.

"Well?" Larsen asked of me. "Have you made up your mind?"

I had glanced occasionally at the approaching schooner, and it was now
almost abreast of us and not more than a couple of hundred yards away.
It was a very trim and neat little craft. I could see a large, black
number on one of its sails, and I had seen pictures of pilot-boats.

"What vessel is that?" I asked.

"The pilot-boat _Lady Mine_," Wolf Larsen answered grimly. "Got rid of
her pilots and running into San Francisco. She'll be there in five or
six hours with this wind."

"Will you please signal it, then, so that I may be put ashore."

"Sorry, but I've lost the signal book overboard," he remarked, and the
group of hunters grinned.

I debated a moment, looking him squarely in the eyes. I had seen the
frightful treatment of the cabin-boy, and knew that I should very
probably receive the same, if not worse. As I say, I debated with
myself, and then I did what I consider the bravest act of my life. I ran
to the side, waving my arms and shouting: