all looked torn and bedraggled as if they had
given way to dissipated habits. Besides this, they took to crowing
defiance against each other at the most unearthly hours, whereas, prior
to this, their time for chanticleering had been as regular as clock-
work, in the afternoon and in the "middle watch" generally.

Captain Gillespie couldn't make it out at all.

One fine morning, however, coming on the deck through the cuddy doors
below the break of the poop instead of mounting up to the latter by the
companion way as usual, before the time for washing down, he surprised a
number of the men assembled about the cook's galley.

There was Ching Wang in the centre of the group, holding Captain
Gillespie's pet gold and silver crower and urging it on to fight one of
the other cocks, which the carpenter was officiating for as "bottle
holder" in the most scientific way, he apparently being no novice at the
cruel sport.

The captain did not see what they were about at first; but the
delinquent was soon pointed out by Pedro Carvalho, between whom and the
Chinaman the most deadly enmity existed, and who had indeed already
informed the captain of the cook's treatment of his fowls, the
Portuguese steward doing this with much alacrity, as if proud of being
the informer.

"Look dere, sah!" cried Pedro. "Dere is dat Ching Wang now, sah! Oh,
yase, dere he was, sah, as I say, killin' your cockles magnificent--oh!"

The captain's appearance at once broke up the ring, the carpenter
dropping his bird incontinently and fleeing into the forecastle with the
other men; but, the Chinaman never moved a muscle of his countenance
when he turned his round innocent-looking, vacuous, Mongolian face and
caught sight of "Old Jock's" infuriated look bent on him.

He did not even let go the gold and silver cock, whose plumage had been
sadly tarnished by a previous tournament with the Dorking which the
carpenter had squired. No, he held his ground there before the galley
with a courage one could not but admire, the only sign he gave of an
inward emotion being the occasional twinkling of his little beady
Chinese eyes.

"Wh-wha-what the dicken's d-d-d'ye mean by this?" stuttered and
stammered Captain Gillespie, his passion almost stopping his speech.
"Wh-wh-what d'ye mean, I say?"

"Me only hab piecee cocky-fightee," answered Ching Wang as calmly as
possible. "Me chin chin you, cap'en."

Captain Gillespie fairly boiled over with rage.

"This