did Boston and
Blackie think of it? I could tell from their bearing that, for some
reason, they were pleased. I thought of them as fighting material--and
did not relish the thought. Fighters, yes, but foul fighters. I did
not like to think of being leagued with them in an enterprise. And
what was this "rich lay" they spoke of? What was this game they were
willing I should enter? Did they, too, think mutiny?

These thoughts plagued me for days, and I found no answer, or peace of
mind. Hell was preparing in that ship, I felt it in my bones; and we
were getting enough hell already, with drive, drive, drive, from dawn
to dawn. Yet, there were rifts in the clouds.

For one thing, Lynch quieted my mind of the fear that the Old Man would
again get Newman aloft at night, and attempt his life with better
success. The very next day, Lynch came to the foretop, where Newman
and I were working on the rigging. He examined the work, and then
said, abruptly, to Newman,

"I had nothing to do with that affair last night."

"I know you had not," answered Newman.

"I give you warning--he intends to get you," continued the second mate.
"But he'll not get you that way in my watch. From now on, you need not
go aloft after dark."

"Thank you, sir," said Newman.

"You need not," was the response. "I'm not doing this for your sake.
Well--you understand. And make no mistake, my man, as to my position;
I am a ship's officer, and if trouble comes it will find me doing my
duty by my captain's side."

"There will be no trouble if I can prevent it, sir," was Newman's reply.

"Then you have your work cut out for you. You--understand?"

"Yes, I understand," said Newman.

I watched Mister Lynch leap nimbly to the deck, and go striding aft, a
fine figure of a man. "Why, he's on the square!" I exclaimed.

"Yes, he is not like the others," said Newman. "She says his heart is
clean."

She says! Well, it was hardly news to me. I was sure he was in
communication with her. He always made it a point to meet Wong, the
steward, when the latter came forward to the galley. And there were
times in the night watches below when his bunk was empty. He was a
great hand for pacing the deck in lonely meditation, and for stowing
himself away and brooding alone in odd corners. We did not spy upon
him, or force ourselves upon him, you may be sure. Not upon Newman.

The lady was, we understood, forbidden by the Old Man to come forward.