d now and again one or another laughed, and sometimes all laughed.

I remembered Wada's reports on this unseamanlike intimacy of the second
mate with the gangsters, and tried to make out the nature of the
conversation. But the gangsters were low-voiced, and all I could catch
was the tone of friendliness and good-nature.

Suddenly, from the poop, came Captain West's voice. It was the voice,
not of the Samurai riding the storm, but of the Samurai calm and cold. It
was clear, soft, and mellow as the mellowest bell ever cast by eastern
artificers of old time to call worshippers to prayer. I know I slightly
chilled to it--it was so exquisitely sweet and yet as passionless as the
ring of steel on a frosty night. And I knew the effect on the men
beneath me was electrical. I could _feel_ them stiffen and chill to it
as I had stiffened and chilled. And yet all he said was:

"Mr. Mellaire."

"Yes, sir," answered Mr. Mellaire, after a moment of tense silence.

"Come aft here," came Captain West's voice.

I heard the second mate move along the deck beneath me and stop at the
foot of the poop-ladder.

"Your place is aft on the poop, Mr. Mellaire," said the cold, passionless
voice.

"Yes, sir," answered the second mate.

That was all. Not another word was spoken. Captain West resumed his
stroll on the weather side of the poop, and Mr. Mellaire, ascending the
ladder, went to pacing up and down the lee side.

I continued along the bridge to the forecastle head and purposely
remained there half an hour ere I returned to the cabin by way of the
main deck. Although I did not analyze my motive, I knew I did not desire
any one to know that I had overheard the occurrence.

* * * * *

I have made a discovery. Ninety per cent. of our crew is brunette. Aft,
with the exception of Wada and the steward, who are our servants, we are
all blonds. What led me to this discovery was Woodruff's _Effects of
Tropical Light on White Men_, which I am just reading. Major Woodruff's
thesis is that the white-skinned, blue-eyed Aryan, born to government and
command, ever leaving his primeval, overcast and foggy home, ever
commands and governs the rest of the world and ever perishes because of
the too-white light he encounters. It is a very tenable hypothesis, and
will bear looking into.

But to return. Every one of us who sits aft in the high place is a blond
Aryan. For'ard, leavened with a ten per cent, of degenerate blonds, the