ker--"and then turn in. I
will be here, and will take care of you."

He departed, and when he saw the wet garments flung out, he gathered
them and hung them up to dry. It was all he could do, except to look
through the surgeon's quarters for stimulants, which he found. He
poured out a strong dose of brandy, which he gave to the woman, and had
the satisfaction of seeing her sink into profound slumber; then,
returning to the wardroom, he found Jenkins waiting for him.

"I am after a sextant, Mr. Denman," he said, "an almanac--a nautical
almanac. Forsythe wants them."

"You must find them yourself, then," answered Denman. "Neither under
parole nor confinement will I aid you in any way unless you surrender."

"Nonsense," said Jenkins, impatiently, as he stepped past Denman, and
approached a bookcase. "When we're through with the boat you can have
her."

He had incautiously turned his back. Denman saw the protruding butt of
his pistol in Jenkins' pocket, and, without any formulated plan for the
future, only seeing a momentary advantage in the possession of the
weapon, pounced on his shoulders, and endeavored to secure it.

But he was not able to; he could only hold on, his arms around Jenkins'
neck, while the big sailor hove his huge body from side to side, and,
gripping his legs, endeavored to shake him off.

No word was spoken--only their deep breathing attested to their
earnestness, and they thrashed around the wardroom like a dog and a cat,
Denman, in the latter similitude, in the air most of the time. But he
was getting the worst of it, and at last essayed a trick he knew of,
taught him in Japan, and to be used as a last resort.

Gripping his legs tightly around the body of Jenkins, he sagged down and
pressed the tips of his forefingers into two vulnerable parts of the
thick neck, where certain important nerves approach the surface--parts
as vulnerable as the heel of Achilles. Still clinging, he mercilessly
continued the pressure, while Jenkins swayed back and forth, and finally
fell backward to the floor.

Denman immediately secured the pistol; then, panting hard, he examined
his victim. Jenkins was breathing with the greatest difficulty, but
could not speak or move, and his big eyes glared piteously up at his
conqueror. The latter would have ironed him at once, but the irons were
forward in the armroom, so he temporarily bound him hand and foot with
neckties replevined from his fellow officers' staterooms.