ortly.

"It's a lie," retorted the long-nosed man, with an oath. "I wasn't up
here. I was down below, keeping dry."

"Here's your knife," pursued Mr. Grigsby, holding it out.

The long-nosed man laughed sneeringly.

"Not my knife. I don't carry one. Besides, the ship's full of knives
like that."

"Yes," said Mr. Grigsby. "But it isn't full of dogs like you! If you
weren't up here last night, how did you get that bruised cheek, and
those finger-marks on your throat? You look powerful like somebody
who'd been knocked down and held for a while."

"It's a lie," repeated the long-nosed man, but rather weakly. He
braced up. "Of course it's a lie," he appealed, to the group. "Isn't
my word as good as his?"

The man with the goatee laughed grimly--and so did several others.

"Your word? It's about the poorest security you can offer. Why,
you're nothing but a common gambler and a thug. You're one of those
rascals who've been fleecing people down in the cabin. Just yesterday
you robbed a man of his last cent by cheating him at cards. Faugh!
Some of us have been watching you, and we know all about you. I
wouldn't put it at all beyond you to cut down a boat, in the night, and
drop it, with a man and a boy sleeping in it. Well, gentlemen," and he
addressed the group, "soon or late we'll have to organize a little law
and order committee, for protection in the gold fields, and I suppose
we might as well begin right here. What'll we do with this specimen?"

"Throw him overboard!" came the angry response.

"String him up!"

"We'd better talk it over, first, hadn't we?" proposed a more cautious
voice.

"All right. Somebody guard the prisoner."

"I'll watch him," proffered Mr. Grigsby, significantly handling his
rifle.

The group withdrew a short distance, to confer apart, leaving the
long-nosed man in a clear space before Mr. Grigsby. A number of other
passengers had been attracted by the scene, but they stood at a
respectful distance, saying nothing.

The long-nosed man glared alike at Charley, his father, and Mr.
Grigsby, but he was afraid to move.

"You'll pay for this," he said, loudly. "It's a scheme to get rid of
me, is it, and take my share in that gold mine you're making for? But
it won't work. These passengers won't see an innocent man suffer."
And so forth, and so forth, while Mr. Grigsby and Mr. Adams answered
never a word--and neither, of course, did Charley. He rather hoped
that,