ay off a week. That
can't hurt them and it'll waste just that much more time."

"All right," agreed Captain Selover.

"Another thing yet. You know I'm not lazy, so it ain't that I'm trying
to dodge work. But you'd better lay me off. It'll be so much more for
the others."

"That's true," said he.

I could not recognise the man for what I knew him to be. He groped,
as one in the dark, or as a sea animal taken out of its element and
placed on the sands. Courage had given place to fear; decision to
wavering; and singleness of purpose to a divided counsel. He who had
so thoroughly dominated the entire ship, eagerly accepted advice of
me--a man without experience.

That evening I sat apart considerably disturbed. I felt that the
ground had dropped away beneath my feet. To be sure, everything was
tranquil at present; but now I understood the source of that
tranquillity and how soon it must fail. With opportunity would come
more scheming, more speculation, more cupidity. How was I to meet it,
with none to back me but a scared man, an absorbed man, and an
indifferent man?

VIII

WRECKING OF THE GOLDEN HORN

Percy Darrow, unexpected, made his first visit to us the very next
evening. He sauntered in with a Mexican corn-husk cigarette between
his lips, carrying a lantern; blew the light out, and sat down with
a careless greeting, as though he had seen us only the day before.

"Hullo, boys," said he, "been busy?"

"How are ye, sir?" replied Handy Solomon. "Good Lord, mates, look at
that!"

Our eyes followed the direction of his forefinger. Against the dark
blue of the evening sky to northward glowed a faint phosphorescence,
arch-shaped, from which shot, with pulsating regularity, long shafts
of light. They beat almost to the zenith, and back again, a half dozen
times, then the whole illumination disappeared with the suddenness
of gas turned out.

"Now I wonder what that might be!" marvelled Thrackles.

"Northern lights," hazarded Pulz. "I've seen them almost like that
in the Behring Seas."

"Northern lights your eye!" sneered Handy Solomon. "You may have seen
them in the Behring Seas, but never this far south, and in August,
and you can, kiss the Book on that."

"What do you think, sir?" Thrackles inquired of the assistant.

"Devil's fire," replied Percy Darrow briefly. "The island's a little
queer. I've noticed it before."

"Debbil fire," repeated the Nigger.

Darrow turned directly to him.