op of his
adversary. Petersen, however, had muscles of steel, hardened by years of
service and labor on shipboard. He tried to grab the black man by the
throat. The two slipped to the bottom of the boat, where they struggled
for the mastery until the veins stood out on their temples and the sweat
rolled from them in streams. Their breath came in gasps. It was a
strange sight that the early tropical sun looked down upon.

They wrestled and writhed about on the bottom of the boat, first one on
top and then the other. It seemed miraculous that they did not go
overboard. The space in which they struggled was so limited that it was
next to impossible for any one of the boys to get himself in a position
to separate the fighters. Several times Grant tried, but he was always
driven back, and after several narrow escapes from falling into the
water he gave up the attempt. Fred still lay quietly in the bow, too
dazed to be of assistance.

"We must stop this," cried John. "They'll kill each other."

"I know it, String," agreed Grant, "but what can we do?"

"Hit Sam over the head. He's the one that started it."

"I can't get to his head. His feet are pointed this way and every time I
try I get a few swift kicks and nothing more."

"But we must do something to stop them," urged George.

"All right, Pop," said Grant grimly. "You suggest something."

"Isn't there a club in the boat?"

"I don't see any."

"Throw water on them."

"We might do that," exclaimed Grant. "Hand me that canvas bucket,
String."

Grant filled it to the brim with water and then soused it as nearly as
he could into the faces of the fighters. The only effect it seemed to
have was to revive them both and the struggle was continued with renewed
fury.

"That won't do," cried Grant.

"It seems to be a question of who will weaken first," remarked John,
grimly. "I guess we'll have to sit and watch until that time."

"Not at all," exclaimed George. "I say we all pile on and make them
quit."

"And all go overboard if we try that," said Grant. "You forget that
we're in a boat, Pop."

"Let me up there, then," urged George. "I'm sure I can end the fight."

Grant gave way to his comrade, only too willing to let some one else try
his hand at the problem. They changed places carefully and George
prepared to put his plan into execution.

"You better stay here beside me, Grant," he exclaimed suddenly.

"What for?"

"We'll each grab a foot and pull for a