can't give it to me."

"I can try, can't I?" said Holly.

"So can any other fool; but it doesn't follow he will do it."

"Look here, I've been two voyages before this. You're a green hand
compared to me, and I'm boss here. We are short-handed. Do the work,
and I'll make things easy for you; if not, it will be worse for you."

"I'll chance that," said Mont.

"Do you mean to risk a sound thrashing?"

"Oh, yes, I'm game for a rough-and-tumble. It's sure to come sooner or
later, and we may as well get it over at once."

"Mind your eye, then," yelled Holly.

His ugly face glowed with passion, and his great, stupid-looking ears
seemed to stick out like cabbage leaves.

"Come on," he said.

"I'm ready," returned Mont.

The fight commenced in the little cabin, and it was evident that the
combatants were in earnest.

Our hero found his opponent as strong as a young bull, but he had not
very much skill.

Parrying his blows and hitting hard when he had a good chance, Mont
punished him severely.

But he was knocked down first.

"Will that do for you," said Holly, "or do you want any more?"

"More, please," exclaimed Mont, getting up. And then he clipped Holly
two heavy ones that knocked him nearly down a ladder.

Holly foamed with rage. "Come on!" he exclaimed, in a husky voice.

The fight continued for ten minutes, with varying success. At last Mont
saw a good chance, and, pretending to strike Holly's face, he dropped
his hand and hit him in the stomach.

As the bully fell back, gasping for breath, Mont exclaimed:

"How do you like it now, you bully? Do you want any more?"

"Not this voyage," rejoined Holly dismally; "you're best man."

"It's a pity you didn't find that out before," remarked Mont. "However,
it's never too late to learn. Perhaps you will get our breakfast ready.
I'm master now. Do you understand that, Mr. Bully?"

"Don't crow. I'm licked this time, but my turn may come. Sit down and
have your grub."

Mont was quite satisfied with his victory.

He shook hands with Holly, and they all sat down together, making a
comfortable breakfast, though the fare was not luxurious.

Carl and our hero went on deck afterward, and, hearing an altercation
forward, ran in that direction.

Captain Savage was beating a sailor with a marlinspike for some breach
of discipline.

The crew looked on without interfering.

The sailor was a fine, handsome fellow, and in vain begged the tyrant to
desist. The