nd soon she opened her eyes and
sighed. Then she pulled away from Lund, bending over her, and got to her
feet.

"I must go to my father," she said. "He is dead."

They followed her into the cabin, and Lund bent over the bunk.

"Looks like it," he whispered to Rainey. Then he tore open the skipper's
vest and shirt and laid his head on his chest. The girl made a faint
motion as if to stop him, but did not hinder him. She was at the end of
her own strength from weariness and worry. Lund suddenly raised his
head.

"There's a flutter," he announced. "He ain't gone yit. Get Tamada an'
some brandy."

The Japanese, by some intuition, was already on hand, and produced the
brandy. Rainey poured out a measure. The captain's teeth were tightly
clenched. Lund spraddled one great hand across his jaws, pressing at
their junction, forcing them apart, firmly, but gently enough, while
Rainey squeezed in a few drops of brandy from the corner of his soaked
handkerchief. Lund stroked the sick man's throat, and he swallowed
automatically.

"More brandy," ordered Lund.

With the next dose there came signs of revival, a low moan from the
skipper. The girl flew to his side. Tamada, standing by with the
bottle, stepped forward, handed the brandy to Rainey, and rolled up the
lid of an eye, looking closely at the pupil.

"I study medicine at Tokio," he said.

"Why didn't ye say so before?" demanded Lund. It did not occur to any of
them to doubt Tamada's word. There was an air of professional assurance
and an efficiency about him that carried weight. "What can you do for
him? There's a medicine chest in Carlsen's room."

"I was hired to cook," said Tamada quietly. "I should not have been
permit to interfere. It is not my business if a white man makes a fool
of himself. Now we want morphine and hypodermic syringe."

Tamada rolled up the captain's sleeve. The flesh, shrunken, pallid, was
closely spotted with dot-like scars that showed livid, as if the captain
had been suffering from some strange rash.

Lund whistled softly. Rainey, too, knew what it meant. The skipper had
been a veritable slave to the drug. Carlsen had administered it,
prescribed it, used it as a means to bring Simms under his subjection.
The girl looked strangely at Tamada.

"Would he have taken that for sciatica?" she asked.

"I think, perhaps, yes. Injection over muscle gives relief. Sometimes
makes cure. But Captain Simms take too much. Suppose this supply cut o