Sick?" he inquired in a whisper.
The Japanese, a diminutive white wraith in the profound gloom of the
bridge, replied, "No sick. All same one stiff. No can do." This was his
final word. Mr. Spokesly hurriedly aroused the captain, who came out on
the bridge and told them to go down together. They went down and Mr.
Spokesly had a violent shock. He told Archy Bates afterwards he had "had
a turn." He did all that a competent officer could do. He spoke sharply
the man's name. "Mr. McGinnis!" and Mr. McGinnis continued to regard the
spot on the carpet with intense curiosity. He felt the breast, held a
shaving glass to the lips of the silent McGinnis, and realized that the
Oriental who stood by the door, his dark face impassive and his gaze
declined upon the floor, was perfectly right. As Mr. Spokesly raised the
stiffened arms the kimono fell open, and he had another violent shock,
for Mr. McGinnis had evidently been a patron of the art of tattooing in
all its branches. His arms and torso formed a ghastly triptych of green
and blue figures with red eyes. Contrasted with the pallor of death the
dreadful designs took on the similitude of living forms. With a movement
of hasty horror Mr. Spokesly laid the body on the settee and went away
to call Mr. Chippenham and the chief steward.

The conjectures which followed were most of them beside the mark. The
fact was, intelligence has its limits. The miraculous balance of forces
had been in some obscure way disturbed, and Mr. McGinnis, like the
one-hoss shay, had simply crumbled to dust at the appointed time.
Captain Meredith was sorry, for Mr. McGinnis had been what is known as
"a good mate." And Captain Meredith, whether from mere prejudice or
genuine conviction, was unable to discern the makings of a "good mate"
in Mr. Spokesly. It was almost miraculous, he reflected, how the work of
the ship had got balled up since the invaluable McGinnis, neatly sewed
up in some of his own canvas, had made a hole in the Mediterranean. It
should be understood that Captain Meredith was a humane man. He was also
a seafaring man. The fact that McGinnis had been excommunicated from the
church of his baptism did not deter Captain Meredith from reading the
burial service over him. And his annoyance at seeing his new chief
officer and the steward "as thick as thieves," as he put it, was really
a humane feeling. He had served in ships where the commander had been
utterly at the mercy of some contemptible di