rise, and,
doubtlessly, speed and weight to my blows, and at least half a dozen
additional clouts to the unlucky sailor.

Yes, man is strangely and wonderfully made. Now that I coolly consider
the matter, I realize that it was essentially the same spirit with which
I enjoyed beating up Tom Spink, that I have in the past enjoyed contests
of the mind in which I have out-epigrammed clever opponents. In the one
case, one proves himself top-dog of the mind; in the other, top-dog of
the muscle. Whistler and Wilde were just as much intellectual bullies as
I was a physical bully yesterday morning when I punched Tom Spink into
lying down and staying down.

And my knuckles are sore and swollen. I cease writing for a moment to
look at them and to hope that they will not stay permanently enlarged.

At any rate, Tom Spink took his disciplining and promised to come in and
be good.

"Sir!" I thundered at him, quite in Mr. Pike's most bloodthirsty manner.

"Sir," he mumbled with bleeding lips. "Yes, sir, I'll mop it up, sir.
Yes, sir."

I could scarcely keep from laughing in his face, the whole thing was so
ludicrous; but I managed to look my haughtiest, and sternest, and
fiercest, while I superintended the deck-cleansing. The funniest thing
about the affair was that I must have knocked Tom Spink's quid down his
throat, for he was gagging and hiccoughing all the time he mopped and
scrubbed.

The atmosphere aft has been wonderfully clear ever since. Tom Spink
obeys all orders on the jump, and Buckwheat jumps with equal celerity. As
for the five Asiatics, I feel that they are stouter behind me now that I
have shown masterfulness. By punching a man's face I verily believe I
have doubled our united strength. And there is no need to punch any of
the rest. The Asiatics are keen and willing. Henry is a true cadet of
the breed, Buckwheat will follow Tom Spink's lead, and Tom Spink, a
proper Anglo-Saxon peasant, will lead Buckwheat all the better by virtue
of the punching.

* * * * *

Two days have passed, and two noteworthy things have happened. The men
seem to be nearing the end of their mysterious food supply, and we have
had our first truce.

I have noted, through the glasses, that no more carcasses of the
mollyhawks they are now catching are thrown overboard. This means that
they have begun to eat the tough and unsavoury creatures, although it
does not mean, of course, that they have entirely exhausted their othe