ed with the excitement
of what had taken place. And somehow, as I leaned back in my chair and
lighted a cigarette, the strangeness of the whole voyage vividly came to
me. Miss West and I talk philosophy and art on the poop of a stately
ship in a circle of flashing sea, while Captain West dreams of his far
home, and Mr. Pike and Mr. Mellaire stand watch and watch and snarl
orders, and the slaves of men pull and haul, and Possum has fits, and
Andy Fay and Mulligan Jacobs burn with hatred unconsumable, and the small-
handed half-caste Chinese cooks for all, and Sundry Buyers perpetually
presses his abdomen, and O'Sullivan raves in the steel cell of the
'midship-house, and Charles Davis lies about him nursing a marlin-spike,
and Christian Jespersen, miles astern, is deep sunk in the sea with a
sack of coal at his feet.

CHAPTER XVII

Two weeks out to-day, on a balmy sea, under a cloud-flecked sky, and
slipping an easy eight knots through the water to a light easterly wind.
Captain West said he was almost convinced that it was the north-east
trade. Also, I have learned that the _Elsinore_, in order to avoid being
jammed down on Cape San Roque, on the Brazil coast, must first fight
eastward almost to the coast of Africa. On occasion, on this traverse,
the Cape Verde Islands are raised. No wonder the voyage from Baltimore
to Seattle is reckoned at eighteen thousand miles.

I found Tony, the suicidal Greek, steering this morning when I came on
deck. He seemed sensible enough, and quite rationally took off his hat
when I said good morning to him. The sick men are improving nicely, with
the exceptions of Charles Davis and O'Sullivan. The latter still is
lashed to his bunk, and Mr. Pike has compelled Davis to attend on him. As
a result, Davis moves about the deck, bringing food and water from the
galley and grumbling his wrongs to every member of the crew.

Wada told me a strange thing this morning. It seems that he, the
steward, and the two sail-makers foregather each evening in the cook's
room--all being Asiatics--where they talk over ship's gossip. They seem
to miss little, and Wada brings it all to me. The thing Wada told me was
the curious conduct of Mr. Mellaire. They have sat in judgment on him
and they do not approve of his intimacy with the three gangsters for'ard.

"But, Wada," I said, "he is not that kind of a man. He is very hard and
rough with all the sailors. He treats them like dogs. You