y, old side-winder, you ain't goin' to maroon
us here, alone with the vegetables, are you?"

"You done me dirt. You quit me cold. Git out. Two can play at a
dirty game an' every dog must have his day. This is my day, Gib.
Scat!"

"Pers'nally," McGuffey announced quietly, "I prefer to die aboard
the _Maggie_, if I have to. This ain't movin' day with B.
McGuffey, Esquire."

"Them's my sentiments, too, Scraggsy."

"Then defend yourselves. Come on, lads. Bear a hand an' we'll
bounce these muckers overboard." The Squarehead hung back having
no intention of waging war upon his late comrades, but the
engineer and the new navigating officer stepped briskly forward,
for they were about to fight for their jobs. Mr. Gibney halted
the advance by lifting both great hands in a deprecatory manner.

"For Heaven's sake, Scraggsy, have a heart. Don't force us to
murder you. If we're peaceable, what's to prevent you from givin'
us a passage back to San Francisco, where we're known an' where
we'll have at least a fightin' chance to git somethin' to eat
occasionally."

"You know mighty well what's to prevent me, Gib. I ain't got no
passenger license, an' I'll be keel-hauled an' skull-dragged if I
fall for your cute little game, my son. I ain't layin' myself
liable to a fine from the Inspectors an' maybe have my ticket
book took away to boot."

"You could risk your danged old ticket. It ain't no use to you on
salt water anyhow," McGuffey jeered insultingly.

"We can work our passage an' who's to know the difference,
Scraggsy?"

"You for one an' McGuffey for two. You'd have the bulge on me
forever after. You could blackmail me until I dassen't call my
ship my own."

"Don't worry, you snipe. Nobody else will ever hanker to own
her." Another insult from McGuffey. Having made up his mind that
a fight was inevitable, the honest fellow was above pleading for
mercy.

"Enough of this gab," Mr. Gibney roared. "My patience is
exhausted. I'm dog-tired an' I'm goin' to have peace if I have to
fight for it. Me an' Bart stays aboard the steamer _Maggie_ until
she gets back to Frisco town or until we're hove overboard in the
interim by the weight of numbers. An' if any man, or set o' male
bipeds that calls theirselves men, is so foolish as to try to
evict us from this packet, then all I got to say is that they're
triflin' with death." (Here Mr. Gibney thrust out his superb
chest and thumped it with his horny fists, after the fashion of
a