, and that it was the common opinion.

"That will do no harm," he remarked. "So long as they did not see, or
guess--yes, it is a good blind."

I was a little resentful, and showed it. "You know I don't want you to
tell me anything you don't want to tell me, but I think you might have
dropped a hint In my ear. How was I to know that the greaser hadn't
played a trick on you, and given you over to the Old Man? I don't know
what game you're playing, and if you don't want to tell me I don't want
to know--but I tell you I came pretty near spoiling it, whatever it is.
I was on the verge of going aft and raising a row, just to find out
what had become of you."

"Jack, it isn't my mistrust that keeps you in the dark," says he. "You
know I trust you absolutely. But I cannot explain--others have that
right. But, lad, I can tell you this--things are moving, aft there,
and the sky is brighter for me--and for her. And, you must not worry
about me if this should happen again, some other night. I shall be
safe; don't come hunting me, it might ruin everything. You will know
soon just what is happening. And you already know, Jack, how I count
upon you--and she, too. If things should go wrong, if he outwits me,
it is your head and arm I count upon to aid her."

"Anything, any time," was my eager response. "Oh, I want to help."

I found my hand being tightly squeezed in his, and there was a little
catch in his voice. "A thick-and-thin friend, eh, Jack? I've learned
something about friendship since I have known you."

CHAPTER XVI

This strange peace, this interlude of quiet, lasted for several days.
It was a curious time, a period of uneasy suspense for me, for I could
feel hell simmering beneath the smooth surface of the ship's life, but
I could not see it, or guess when or where it would bubble over.

Even Lynch toned down his adjectives, and slackened his driving. He
was commanded to do so by Captain Swope while the watch was within
hearing. The Old Man told him to "go easy with those boys, Mister;
we've made it too hard for them this voyage." Aye, that was a nice
bitter pill for Bucko Lynch to swallow before his watch; oh, the lads
enjoyed it, I can tell you.

Fitzgibbon, the roaring lion, became the bleating lamb. He hardly
worked his men during those days, let alone haze them. He let Nigger
alone. He stopped swearing at Holy Joe. Why, a man might fancy from
his manner that he had become afraid of