on only in the
drumming heels that beat a tattoo on the floor. The spasmodic feet were
shod in Oxford tans of an ultra-fashionable cut. No doubt the owner of
the smart footwear had been pulled down as he was escaping to shout the
alarm.
The runner hurdled the two in his stride and plunged straight at the
struggling tangle. He caught one man by the shoulders from behind and
flung him back. He struck hard, smashing blows as he fought his way to
the heart of the melee. Heavy-fisted miners with corded muscles landed
upon his face and head and neck. The strange excitement of the battle
lust surged through his veins. He did not care a straw for the odds.
The sudden attack of Elliot had opened the pack. The man battling
against a dozen was Colby Macdonald. The very number of his foes had
saved him so far from being rushed overboard or trampled down. In their
desire to get at him they hindered each other, struck blows that found
the wrong mark. His coat and shirt were in rags. He was bruised and
battered and bleeding from the chest up. But he was still slogging hard.
They had him pressed to the rail. A huge miner, head down, had his arms
around the waist of the Scotchman and was trying to throw him overboard.
Macdonald lashed out and landed flush upon the cheek of a man attempting
to brain him with a billet of wood. He hammered home a short-arm jolt
against the ear of the giant who was giving him the bear grip.
The big miner grunted, but hung on like a football tackler. With a jerk
he raised Macdonald from the floor just as three or four others rushed
him again. The rail gave way, splintered like kindling wood. The
Scotchman and the man at grips with him went over the side together.
Clear and loud rang the voice of Elliot. "Man overboard!"
The wheelsman had known for some minutes that there was trouble afoot.
He signaled to the engine room to reverse and blew short, sharp shrieks
of warning. Already deckhands and officers, scantily clad, were
appearing from fore and aft.
"Men overboard--two of 'em!" explained Elliot in a shout from the boat
which he was trying to lower.
The first mate and another man ran to help him. The three of them
lowered and manned the boat. Gordon sat in the bow and gave directions
while the other two put their backs into the stroke. Quite casually
Elliot noticed that the man in the waist had a purple bruise on his left
cheek bone. The young man himself had put it there not three minutes
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