on't know a
yard from a main-brace bumpkin. Pass a line around his legs and stuff a
swab into his mouth if he don't stop swearing."

"Steady," said Trunnell, "none of that," as the swab was being brought
up. "But, Captain Andrews, if you don't belay your tongue we'll have to
do something." And the little mate squared his shoulders, and gazed
calmly down upon the prostrate stranger who foamed at the mouth with
impotent fury.

"So," I said, "this is the ruffian who jumped his bail and is aboard here
on the sneak? I reckon we'll tack ship and stand back again to put him
where he belongs."

I was breathing heavily from the fight, and stood leaning against the
cabin to recover, while Mr. Trunnell and the fellow Jim, who had helped
tie the skipper up, appeared to be in doubt how to proceed. The noise of
the scuffle and our conversation had aroused the captain in the cabin,
and as I finished speaking he came to the break of the poop and looked
down on the main deck. I was aware of his hooked nose and strange,
glinting eyes almost before I turned, as he spoke. He placed his foot
upon the rail and gave a dry cough.

"I reckon there ain't any call to tack ship," he said slowly; "a pair of
irons'll do the rest. Jest clap them on him, hand and foot, Mr. Rolling,
and then rivet him to the deck away up forrads. If he don't stow that
bazoo of his, you might ram the end of a handspike in his mouth and see
if he'll bite."

"Who are you, you molly-hawk, to give orders aboard here?" roared
Andrews, from where he lay on deck. "What's happened, Trunnell, when a
swivel-eyed idiot with a beak like an albatross stands on the poop and
talks to me like this?"

"He's Captain Thompson, in command, owing to the little--the little
fracas you was mixed into last v'yage. We didn't exactly expect to have
ye this trip, sir," said the mate.

"Well, I'm here, ain't I? Sing out, can't you see me? Has your hair
struck in and tickled your brain so you don't know who's boss aboard
here? Who's this galoot you've just kept from being ripped to ribbons?
I'll settle matters with you later on for meddling in this affair, you
kelp-haired sea-pig. Sink you, Trunnell; I never expected you to turn
rusty like the miserable swab you are."

"Don't you think it would be best to stand away for port again, sir?"
said the fellow Jim, looking sharply at the skipper on the poop as he
spoke, and then to myself and Trunnell.

"We don't keer for your suggestions, youn