y?'

"'Why not put him in irons, captain?' I asked. 'I knocked him off the
poop once, and made him run next time. That seems to be enough as far
as I'm concerned.'

"The skipper glared at me. 'And do you think,' he said sneeringly,
'that he ran because he was afraid of you? He's afraid of the irons and
of the law. But that's just why we don't appeal to the irons and the
law in these packets. It's a point of honor with us; and--yes, a matter
of policy. We couldn't get crews after a time if we ironed and jailed
'em for each offense. No, that man must be properly licked, and if you
can't do it, I'll have to do it myself.'

"'I can do it,' I answered quietly, and went forward.

"Mike--for that was the name he gave--was in my watch, and should have
remained on deck. I found him in the empty starboard forecastle and
called him out. He came, with a bad look in his eyes.

"'Put your knife on the water tank alongside my gun,' I said, 'and come
aft where there's a clear space. We'll find out who runs this ship, you
or the afterguard.'

"'That sounds fair,' he said; 'but how about the after clap? This is
not my proposition.'

"'You mean darbies? There'll be none. The skipper wants you licked into
shape, so you'll be useful. Come on.'

"We laid our weapons on the tank as we passed it, and faced each other
abreast of the main hatch. The skipper looked on from the poop; the
carpenter and cook came out of their shops to witness; and of course
the watch, working aloft, stopped work to look down on us. The sea was
smooth, the wind mild and fair, and the ship slid along with very
little pitching or rolling; so it was a fair fight.

"Mike was a game fighter; but I was just a little heavier, just a
little more skilled, and had just a little longer reach; so I soon had
him going. I backed him completely round the hatch, and when I had him
up to windward again, both his eyes were half closed and his nose
broken and bleeding. So far I had not been struck, and I decided now to
finish him. I put all my strength and the whole weight of my body into
that smash, aiming for the point of his chin; but he saw it coming and
attempted to duck. My closed fist brought up with a crash on the top of
his big bullet head; for he was slow and groggy, and didn't duck low
enough. However, it didn't hurt him, while the effect upon me was to
break every small bone in my hand. It was like slugging a windlass
bitt; for he leaned partly forward, and hardl