after all, the group would decide not to handle the long-nosed
man roughly, even though he was a dangerous person.

Mr. Jacobs evidently was nervous despite his bragging; and when the
group advanced again, he turned pale.

The man with the goatee spoke, first addressing Mr. Grigsby and Mr.
Adams.

"While we believe the accused guilty and deserving of being put into
safe keeping, some of us don't think the evidence that he was cutting
down the boat conclusive enough to warrant us in dealing with him as
we'd like to. As for you," he continued, now sternly addressing the
long-nosed man himself, "we give you this warning. Don't show yourself
on the upper deck again, and don't sit at cards with anybody. If we
catch you up here, or gambling anywhere aboard, we'll relieve the ship
of your society very quickly. Now go."

Still pale, the long-nosed man hastened away, and went below. The next
time Charley saw him was on the Isthmus of Panama.

VI

THE LANDING AT THE ISTHMUS

For the remainder of the voyage Charley slept on the deck instead of in
the boat. He was not exactly afraid, and if anybody had dared him to
he would have slept in the boat just to show that he wasn't afraid.

But the idea that the boat might be cut loose, or might break loose,
was not pleasant. Ugh! Then down he would drop, boat and all, into
the wash of the steamer; the steamer would go on without him--and where
would _he_ go?

Even Mr. Grigsby and his father, who were brave men, approved of his
sleeping on deck, now. As Mr. Grigsby said:

"We know you aren't afraid, but it's only a fool who takes chances when
they aren't necessary. Out in the Indian country the greenhorns were
the fellows who played smart by sitting in the campfire light where the
Injuns could get a good shot at them. Nobody ever saw Kit Carson
exposing himself that way."

The _Georgia_ was ploughing across the Caribbean Sea. Islands were
constantly in view, but now no one paid much attention to these. All
the passengers were on the lookout for the Isthmus of Panama; they were
tremendously eager to get ashore and start across the Isthmus for the
Pacific Ocean.

On the morning of the eighth day out of New Orleans a bank of rain or
fog closed down on the horizon ahead. Off yonder was the Isthmus, but
who could see it? However, evidently it was near; for when Charley
roved about, he discovered that sailors were busy, below, hoisting out
baggage from the h