an.

"Nothing, sir," the fellow answered, stopping immediately.

"What's your name?"

Mr. Pike never spoke to a sailor save with a snarl.

"Charles Davis, sir."

"What are you limping about?"

"I ain't limpin', sir," the man answered respectfully, and, at a nod of
dismissal from the mate, marched off jauntily along the deck with a
heodlum swing to the shoulders.

"He's a sailor all right," the mate grumbled; "but I'll bet you a pound
of tobacco or a month's wages there's something wrong with him."

The forecastle now seemed empty, but the mate turned on the bosuns with
his customary snarl.

"What in hell are you doing? Sleeping? Think this is a rest cure? Get
in there an' rustle 'em out!"

Sundry Buyers pressed his abdomen gingerly and hesitated, while Nancy,
his face one dogged, long-suffering bleakness, reluctantly entered the
forecastle. Then, from inside, we heard oaths, vile and filthy, urgings
and expostulations on the part of Nancy, meekly and pleadingly uttered.

I noted the grim and savage look that came on Mr. Pike's face, and was
prepared for I knew not what awful monstrosities to emerge from the
forecastle. Instead, to my surprise, came three fellows who were
strikingly superior to the ruck that had preceded them. I looked to see
the mate's face soften to some sort of approval. On the contrary, his
blue eyes contracted to narrow slits, the snarl of his voice was
communicated to his lips, so that he seemed like a dog about to bite.

But the three fellows. They were small men, all; and young men, anywhere
between twenty-five and thirty. Though roughly dressed, they were well
dressed, and under their clothes their bodily movements showed physical
well-being. Their faces were keen cut, intelligent. And though I felt
there was something queer about them, I could not divine what it was.

Here were no ill-fed, whiskey-poisoned men, such as the rest of the
sailors, who, having drunk up their last pay-days, had starved ashore
until they had received and drunk up their advance money for the present
voyage. These three, on the other hand were supple and vigorous. Their
movements were spontaneously quick and accurate. Perhaps it was the way
they looked at me, with incurious yet calculating eyes that nothing
escaped. They seemed so worldly wise, so indifferent, so sure of
themselves. I was confident they were not sailors. Yet, as
shore-dwellers, I could not place them. They were a type I