gainst the blue of the sky and the darker blue of the
sea. Silhouetted over the flaw-less white of the deck house was the
sullen, polished profile of the Nigger. Beneath me the ship swerved
and leaped, yielded and recovered. I breathed deep, and saw cutlasses in
harmless shadows. It was two years ago. I was young--then----

At the mess hour I stood in doubt. However, I was informed by the
captain's falsetto that I was to eat in the cabin. As the only other
officer, I ate alone, after the others had finished, helping myself from
the dishes left on the table. It was a handsome cabin, well kept, with
white woodwork spotlessly clean, leather cushions--much better than one
would expect. I afterwards found that the neatness of this cabin and of
the three staterooms was maintained by the Nigger--at peril of his neck.
A rack held a dozen rifles, five revolvers, and,--at last--my cutlasses.
I examined the lot with interest. They were modern weapons,--the new high
power 30-40 box-magazine rifle, shooting government ammunition,--and had
been used. The revolvers were of course the old 45 Colt's. This was an
extraordinary armament for a peaceable schooner of one hundred and fifty
tons burden.

The rest of the cabin's fittings were not remarkable. By the
configuration of the ship I guessed that two of the staterooms must be
rather large. I could make out voices within.

On deck I talked with Captain Selover.

"She's a snug craft," I approached him.

He nodded.

"You have armed her well."

He muttered something of pirates and the China seas.

I laughed.

"You have arms enough to give your crew about two magazine rifles
apiece--unless you filled all your berths forward!"

Captain Selover looked me direct in the eye.

"Talk straight, Mr. Eagen," said he.

"What is this ship, and where is she bound?" I asked, with equal
simplicity.

He considered.

"As for the ship," he replied at length, "I don't mind saying. You're my
first officer, and on you I depend if it comes to--well, the small arms
below. If the ship's a little under the shade, why, so are you. She's by
way of being called a manner of hard names by some people. I do not see
it myself. It is a matter of conscience. If you would ask some
interested, they would call her a smuggler, a thief, a wrecker, and all
the other evil titles in the catalogue. She has taken in Chinks by way of
Santa Cruz Island--if that is smuggling. The country is free, and a Chink
is a man