dark.

"Don't go to sleep, there," commanded the mate sharply. "If I catch you
again with a pipe alight aft of the fo'c'sle, you'll get worse than
that. Move lively!"

Birch wiped his cheek, where the second officer's fist had evidently
landed, his one eye flamed angrily and his hand dropped to his sheath
knife.

"Blast you!" he muttered thickly. "I'll have the law on you--"

Without a word Peters' fist shot out, caught the evil-faced seaman full
on the jaw, and Birch went back with a crash. Peters looked calmly at
him as he rose.

"Say 'sir' when you talk to an officer, an' no back talk either,"
ordered the mate. "And you get gay with that knife again, Birch, and
I'll give you what-for! Now move lively with that work, you lazy dog."

Birch stooped over his holystone, and Peters turned to go forward again.
As he did so, Birch straightened up suddenly. Gazing malevolently at the
broad back of the retreating mate, the one-eyed seaman whipped out his
sheath knife, a wild spasm of fury contracting his wrinkled face.

Instinctively Mart took a step forward, but Bob caught his arm and held
him back with a muttered word. Before Birch could move, a shadow fell
across the deck and old Jerry Smith came padding along in his bare feet,
his white hair flying in the wind. He caught Birch's arm, and for a
second the two men stared into each other's faces. And when Mart saw the
features of old Jerry, he did not wonder that Birch paused, for the
quartermaster's face was absolutely livid with mingled fear and anger,
while his blue eyes shone out clear and baleful.

"You fool!" muttered Jerry, as Peters disappeared forward. "You fool!"

"Mebbe I'm a fool an' mebbe I ain't," responded Birch sullenly. "But I'm
goin' to git that bucko mate yet, Shark Smith!"

"Stow your jaw and get to work!" snapped Jerry, and passed on like a
shadow.

Mart drew back and looked at his chum. Bob's face was white.

"That's no way to treat men," exclaimed Mart softly. "If I was Birch--"

"Oh, shucks--what's the matter with you?" Bob's eyes blazed excitedly.
"That's nothin'--you've got to handle sailors like that. But did you
hear what he said to Jerry? Called him 'Shark Smith'--and Jerry heard
him make threats and said nothing!"

"It's funny discipline," admitted Mart slowly. "But a quartermaster
ain't an officer, remember. And I don't blame Birch for being mad."

So the incident passed, for indeed it was a mere incident in the
sea-routine. O