"I want--want to see Mr. Darwood."

"You can see him to-morrow. You'd better get into your bunk right smart.
I'll help you down."

"Thank you. I'll go alone--in a minute," said Butler, pulling himself up
by the rail to which he clung unsteadily. "I don't want anyone to know.
I'll tell Mr. Darwood what I have to say."

"Have it your own way. I'm going to follow along behind, to see that you
get down all right," answered the man.

"Thank you. I guess you saved me from getting a wetting," said the boy,
extending an impulsive hand. "Now I'll go to my cabin. Please don't say
anything about this. Good-night."

Tad's progress below was slow and unsteady. Dawson watched him until the
door of the cabin had closed behind the Pony Rider Boy.

"That's a raw deal," muttered the miner. "I'd like to punch the head of
the fellow who would do that to a kid!"

Butler got into his bunk without awakening his companions. His head
ached terribly, and it was a long time before he fell asleep. The next
morning his head felt twice its ordinary size. The boys joked him on his
appearance, but Tad merely smiled, refusing to say what had been the
matter with him. Ned was suspicious. He knew that Butler had been
engaged in a scuffle, but what it was he was unable to imagine. Tad had
been strolling about the decks all the morning, as if in search of
someone. He found the man he was seeking late in the forenoon. The man
was sitting on a keg of nails on the after part of the upper deck, his
back to Tad.

"Good morning, Mr. Ketcham," greeted the Pony Rider Boy.

The red-whiskered man whirled, letting the hand that had been caressing
his beard fall limply to his side.

"Beard hurt you?" questioned Tad sweetly.

"None of yer business!" was the surly reply.

"Mr. Ketcham, I know you and I know your game," began Butler in a low,
even tone. "I know, too, that you are the man who assaulted me and tried
to put me overboard."

"I don't know what ye're talking about," growled Sandy.

"Oh, yes you do--and so do I! I've a handful of whiskers which match
perfectly those you are wearing. Shall I pull some more for comparison
with those I already have?" questioned the boy aggravatingly.

Ketcham half rose, then settled back again, as if fearing to trust
himself.

"You may be thankful that you didn't do it. My companions would have
taken care of you, had anything happened to me," Tad went on composedly.
"I want to say, now, that it would be good