He picked up Bradish and threw him on the floor. When he turned he saw

the girl's white, agonized, frightened face at the crack of the saloon

door.

"Captain Downs!" she shrieked, "that negro is killing him. He's killing

Ralph!"

The victor turned his back on her and lurched around the table on his

way out. He stroked blood from his face with his palm, and was glad that

she had not recognized him; and yet, her failure to do so, even though

he was such a pitiable figure of the man she had known, was one more

slash of the whip of anguish across his raw soul. For a moment they had

stood there, face to face, and only blank unrecognition greeted him; it

made this horrible contretemps seem all the more unreal.

Mayo did not pause to listen to the ravings of Captain Downs, who

came thrusting past her. Dizzy, bleeding, half blind, he rushed up the

forward companionway and went into the black night on deck.

The mate was bawling for all hands to shorten sail, and Mayo took his

place with the toilers, who were manning sheets and downhauls.




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