s eyes with the back of his hand, and
seemed to awaken.

But the second mate had not run to his room for refuge. The next moment
he emerged, a thirty-two Smith and Wesson in his hand, and the instant he
emerged he began shooting.

Mr. Pike was wholly himself again, and I saw him perceptibly pause and
decide between the two impulses that tore at him. One was to leap over
the bridge-rail and down at the man who shot at him; the other was to
retreat. He retreated. And as he bounded aft along the narrow bridge
the mutiny began. Arthur Deacon, from the mizzen-top, leaned out and
hurled a steel marlin-spike at the fleeing mate. The thing flashed in
the sunlight as it hurtled down. It missed Mr. Pike by twenty feet and
nearly impaled Possum, who, afraid of firearms, was wildly rushing and ki-
yi-ing aft. It so happened that the sharp point of the marlin-spike
struck the wooden floor of the bridge, and it penetrated the planking
with such force that after it had fetched to a standstill it vibrated
violently for long seconds.

I confess that I failed to observe a tithe of what occurred during the
next several minutes. Piece together as I will, after the event, I know
that I missed much of what took place. I know that the men aloft in the
mizzen descended to the deck, but I never saw them descend. I know that
the second mate emptied the chambers of his revolver, but I did not hear
all the shots. I know that Lars Johnson left the wheel, and on his
broken leg, rebroken and not yet really mended, limped and scuttled
across the poop, down the ladder, and gained for'ard. I know he must
have limped and scuttled on that bad leg of his; I know that I must have
seen him; and yet I swear that I have no impression of seeing him.

I do know that I heard the rush of feet of men from for'ard along the
main deck. And I do know that I saw Mr. Pike take shelter behind the
steel jiggermast. Also, as the second mate manoeuvred to port on top of
Number Three hatch for his last shot, I know that I saw Mr. Pike duck
around the corner of the chart-house to starboard and get away aft and
below by way of the booby-hatch. And I did hear that last futile shot,
and the bullet also as it ricochetted from the corner of the steel-walled
chart-house.

As for myself, I did not move. I was too interested in seeing. It may
have been due to lack of presence of mind, or to lack of habituation to
an active part in scenes of quick action; but at