harley, gladly. "See him. We've got the
life-boat!"

But perhaps they hadn't, for when they arrived, the Fremont man was
calmly barring the way of three other men--among them the long-nosed
man, who was doing most of the arguing on their part.

"No, gentlemen, you're too late," asserted the Fremont man, thrusting
them back with his rifle-barrel held crosswise. "That boat's occupied."

Charley remembered to have seen the little gang much together, on the
_Georgia_, drinking and gambling. They were a tough lot.

"Tell that to the marines," retorted the long-nosed man. "We'll have
that boat, or we'll know a better reason than _you're_ giving."

"Reason enough, and here's my proof," quoth the Fremont man. "The
boat's pre-empted by us three. You must hunt another claim."

Mr. Adams promptly stepped forward, to the Fremont man's side.

"What's this about?" he demanded.

"Oh, it's you again, is it--you and your kid!" snarled the long-nosed
man. "You're chalking up another score to settle, are you?" And, to
his fellows: "What do you say, boys? Shall we throw them overboard?"

"Over they go," announced one of the other men--a thin sallow,
drooping-moustached kind--with marvelous swiftness whipping from under
his coat breast a fifteen-inch blade bowie-knife.

[Illustration: "Over they go!"]

Charley's heart leaped into his throat with horror. He wanted to
spring to his father's side, but his legs would not work. However, the
affair was settled very easily. The Fremont man quickly handed his
rifle to Mr. Adams, grabbed the long-nosed Jacobs, in bear-like grip,
and fairly threw him into the man with the knife. Together the pair
went down in a heap, almost knocking over several of the onlookers.

"You next," declared the Fremonter, with a jump at the third of the
gang--who hastily recoiled, in alarm. So did the onlookers. So did
the two men who were scrambling to their feet again. The Fremont man
had proved as quick and as strong as a gorilla. Now he laughed grimly.

"Come on," he invited. "Come on with your knives or anything else that
you have. But we won't go overboard just yet. We can't swim!"

The three fellows didn't "come on," worth a cent. The one with the
knife hung back farthest of all. They sputtered and glared, a little
uncertain just what to do with a man so energetic and fearless as the
Fremont man.

"All right, boys," snarled the long-nosed man. "There's more than one
way to de