o the engine room to get up enough steam to keep the winch
working.

Promptly at twelve o'clock, the longshoremen knocked off work for
the lunch hour and Neils Halvorsen drifted across the street to
cool his parched throat with steam beer. While waiting for
Scraggs to come up out of the engine room, and take him to
luncheon, Mr. Gibney sauntered aft and was standing gazing
reflectively upon a spot on the _Maggie's_ stern where the
hawsers had chafed away the paint, when suddenly big forebodings
of evil returned to him a thousand fold stronger than they had
been since Scraggs's return to the little ship. He glanced up and
beheld gazing down upon him Captains Jack Flaherty and Daniel
Hicks. Battle was imminent and the valiant Gibney knew it;
wherefore he determined instantly to meet it like a man.

"Howdy, men," he saluted them. "Glad to have you aboard the
yacht," and he stepped backward to give himself fighting room.

"Here's where we collect the towage bill on the S.S. _Yankee
Prince_," Dan Hicks informed him, and leaped from the bulkhead
straight down at Mr. Gibney. Jack Flaherty followed. Mr. Gibney
welcomed Captain Hicks with a terrific right swing, which missed;
before he could guard, Dan Hicks had planted left and right where
they would do the most good and Mr. Gibney went into a clinch to
save himself further punishment.

"Scraggsy," he bawled, "Scraggsy-y-y! Help! Murder! It's Hicks
and Flaherty! Bring an ax!"

He flung Dan Hicks at Jack Flaherty; as they collided he rushed
in and dealt each of them a powerful poke. However, Messrs. Hicks
and Flaherty were sizeable persons and while, individually, they
were no match for the tremendous Gibney, nevertheless what they
lacked in horsepower they made up in pugnacity--and the salt sea
seldom breeds a craven. Captain Scraggs thrust a frightened face
up through the engine-room hatch, but at sight of the battle
royal taking place on the deck aft, his blood turned to water and
he thought only of escape. To climb up to the bulkhead without
being seen was impossible, however, so, not knowing what else to
do, he stood on the iron ladder and gazed, pop-eyed with horror,
at the unequal contest.

Backward and forward the tide of battle surged. For nearly three
minutes all Scraggs saw was an indistinct tangle of legs and
arms; then suddenly the combatants disengaged themselves and
Scraggs beheld Mr. Gibney lying prone upon the deck with a gory
face upturned to the fogg