sick.

But, after all, he was no surgeon, and there was little he could do for
the lad. Newman undressed him--the squareheads had not been able to
accomplish this feat, because of the pain their rough handling
caused--and bared the poor broken body to view. The squareheads cursed
deeply and bitterly at the sight of the shocking bruises on the white
flesh. Nils was delirious, staring up at us with brilliant, unseeing
eyes, and babbling in his own lingo.

"He say, mudder, mudder," commented Lindquist in a choked voice. "I
know his mudder."

Newman explored the hurts with his finger, and his gentle touch brought
gasps of agony. His face grew very grave. Then he ripped up a
blanket, and with my assistance, skillfully bandaged Nils about the
body.

When he was through, he looked Lindquist in the eyes, and shook his
head.

"So?" said Lindquist. His eyes, so stupid and dull a while before,
were blazing now. Aye, it was evident his law-abiding mind had arrived
at a lawless decision; his lowering face boded no good for the brute
who had maltreated his young friend. "Gott, if he die!" he said. It
was a full-mouthed promise to avenge, that sentence.

As we left, I became aware that Boston and Blackie had followed Newman
and me, and had witnessed the scene. Said Boston to his mate, in a low
voice that I just caught,

"If the kid croaks we'll have the squareheads with us."

CHAPTER XI

Captain Swope did not emerge from the cabin that day, nor the next day,
nor the next. But we obtained plain confirmation of the lady's word he
was drinking, when, every morning the Chinese cabin boy brought empty
bottles out on deck and heaved them overboard. Whereat, all the
thirsty souls forward clicked their tongues and swore.

But this interim, during which Yankee Swope stayed below, and moped and
drank, was, you may be sure, no peaceful period for the foc'sle. The
_Golden Bough's_ mates could be trusted to hustle the crowd whether or
not the skipper's eyes were upon them. There was bloody, knock-about
work with belaying pin and knuckles, while the ship settled down into
deep sea form, and the mob of stiffs learned to keep out of its own way
and hand the right rope when yelled at.

Since leaving port, the _Golden Bough_ had been standing a southerly
course, on a port tack. Now, on the third day, the wind hauled around
aft, and came on us from the nor'east, as a freshening gale. We
squared away, and went boomin