"Ay, I had need be busy," said old Jeph without looking up; "there are
many lives to save; many lives bein' lost this very night, and no means
of savin' 'em; leastwise not sufficient."

"Humph! ye're eternally at that bit o' humbug. It's bam, old man, all
bam; bosh and gammon," said Orrick. "It'll never come to no good, _I_
tell ye."

"Who knows?" replied the old man meekly, but going on with his work not
the less diligently because of these remarks.

"Jeph," said Orrick, leaning forward until his sharp features were
within a few inches of his companion's face, "Jeph, will ye tell me
where the `hide' is in yer old house?"

"No, Long Orrick, I won't," replied the old man with an amount of energy
of which he seemed, a few seconds before, quite incapable.

The reply did not seem to please Long Orrick, neither did the steady
gaze with which it was accompanied.

"You won't?" said Orrick between his set teeth.

"No," replied the old man, dropping his eyes on the little boat and
resuming his work.

"Why not," continued the other after a pause, "you don't require the
hide, why won't you lend it to a chum as is hard up?"

"Because I won't encourage smugglin'," said Jeph. "You've smuggled
enough in yer young days yerself, you old villain; you might help a
friend a bit; it won't be you as does it."

"It's because I have smuggled w'en I was young that I won't do it now
that I'm old, nor help anyone else to," retorted Jeph; "besides, you're
no friend o' mine."

"What if I turn out to be an enemy?" cried Orrick, fiercely; "see here,"
said he, drawing out a long knife, and holding it up so that the light
of the stove glittered on its keen blade, "what if I give you a taste of
this, old man?"

"You won't," said Jeph, calmly.

"No! why not?"

"Because you're a coward," replied Jeph, with a quiet chuckle; "you know
that you wouldn't like to be hanged, ha! ha! and you know that Bax would
be down on you if you touched my old carcase."

Long Orrick uttered a savage oath, and said, "I'm brave enough, anyhow,
to let you taste the cold steel to-night--or desperate enough if ye
prefer it."

He seized Jeph by the throat as he spoke, and pressed the blade of the
knife against his breast. The old man did not shrink, neither did he
struggle. He knew that he was in the hands of one whose type is but too
common in this world, a bully and a coward, and, knowing this, felt that
he was safe.

It seemed, however, as if the