ied a bit, I found somebody's hand in my mouth.
From what I gathered afterward, I concluded that it belonged to that
same little man with the vicious way of talking. He got some of it out
again, but that was because the others were choking me. A poor chap can
get no fair play in this world when once he is down--still, I think he
will remember me till the day of his death--longer, I hope.

They dragged me out on to the poop and held a damned court-martial--on
_me_, mind you; _me_, that had thrown over my pals in order to serve
them. What were they to do with me? Some said this, some said that; but
it ended by the captain deciding to send me ashore. The ship stopped,
they lowered a boat, and I was hoisted in, the whole gang of them
hooting at me from over the bulwarks, I saw the man I spoke of tying up
his hand, though, and I felt that things might be worse.

I changed my opinion before we got to the land. I had reckoned on the
shore being deserted, and that I might make my way inland; but the ship
had stopped too near the Heads, and a dozen beach-combers and such like
had come down to the water's edge and were staring at us, wondering what
the boat was after. When we got to the edge of the surf the cockswain
hailed them, and after singing out who I was, he and his men threw me
into the water. You may well look surprised--neck and crop into ten feet
of water, with sharks as thick as green parrots in the bush, and I heard
them laughing as I floundered to the shore.

I soon saw it was a worse job than ever. As I came scrambling out
through the weeds, I was collared by a big chap with a velveteen coat,
and half a dozen others got round me and held me fast. Most of them
looked simple fellows enough, and I was not afraid of them; but there
was one in a cabbage-tree hat that had a very nasty expression on his
face, and the big man seemed to be chummy with him.

They dragged me up the beach, and then they let go their hold of me and
stood round in a circle.

"Well, mate," says the man with the hat, "we've been looking out for you
some time in these parts."

"And very good of you, too," I answers.

"None of your jaw," says he. "Come, boys, what shall it be--hanging,
drowning, or shooting? Look sharp!"

This looked a bit too like business. "No, you don't!" I said. "I've got
government protection, and it'll be murder."

"That's what they call it," answered the one in the velveteen coat, as
cheery as a piping crow.

"And