essel sent
the struggling men against the taffrail with great violence. The
skipper's back was almost broken by the shock, for his body met the side
of the vessel, and the other two were thrown upon him. Job took
advantage of his opportunity: seizing Jager by the leg, he suddenly
lifted him over the iron rail, and hurled him into the sea. There was
one wild shriek and a heavy plunge, and the miserable man sank to rise
no more.

It is impossible to describe the horror of the poor boy at the helm when
he witnessed this cold-blooded murder. Bold though he was, and
accustomed to face danger and witness death in some of its most
appalling forms, he could not withstand the shock of such a scene of
violence perpetrated amid the darkness and danger of a stormy night at
sea. His first impulse was to run below, and get out of sight of the
men who had done so foul a deed; but reflecting that they might, in
their passion, toss him into the sea also if he were to show his horror,
he restrained himself, and stood calmly at his post.

"Come, out o' the way, younker," cried Job, seizing the helm.

Tommy shrank from the man, as if he feared the contamination of his
touch.

"You young whelp, what are ye affeared on? eh!"

He aimed a blow at Tommy, which the latter smartly avoided.

"Murderer!" cried the boy, rousing himself suddenly, "you shall swing
for this yet."

"Shall I? eh! Here, Jim, catch hold o' the tiller."

Jim obeyed, and Job sprang towards Tommy, but the latter, who was lithe
and active as a kitten, leaped aside and avoided him. For five minutes
the furious man rushed wildly about the deck in pursuit of the boy,
calling on Bunks to intercept him, but Bunks would not stir hand or
foot, and Jim could not quit the helm, for the wind had increased to a
gale; and as there was too much sail set, the schooner was flying before
it with masts, ropes, and beams creaking under the strain.

"Do your worst," cried Tommy, during a brief pause, "you'll never catch
me. I defy you, and will denounce you the moment we got into port."

"Will you? then you'll never get into port alive," yelled Job, as he
leaped down the companion, and returned almost instantly, with one of
the skipper's pistols.

He levelled it and fired, but the unsteady motion of the vessel caused
him to miss his aim. He was about to descend for another pistol, when
the attention of all on board was attracted by a loud roar of surf.

"Breakers ahead!"