Mr. Trunnell, Mate of the Ship "Pirate". T. Jenkins Hains

that no money had been spared on her sails. Her spars were all painted or scraped and her standing rigging tarred down to a beautiful blackness. Only on deck and among the ropes of her running gear was shown that sign of untidiness which distinguishes the merchant vessel from the man-of-war.

      I managed to get some hands to work on the braces, and finally got the yards trimmed shipshape and in the American fashion. That was, with the lower yards sharp on the back-stays, the topsails a little further aft, the t'gallant a little further still, until the main-skysail was almost touching with its weather leach cutting into the breeze a point or more forward of the weather beam. The fore and aft canvas was trimmed well, and the outer jibs lifted the ship along at a slapping rate. She was evidently fast in spite of her load, and I looked over the side at the foam that was seething past the lee channels in swirls and eddies which gave forth a cheerful hissing sound as they slipped aft at the rate of six knots an hour. The man at the wheel held her easily, and that was a blessing; for nothing is much worse for a mate's discomfort than a wild ship sheering from side to side leaving a wake like the path of some monstrous snake.

      When I looked again on the main deck I saw the figure of a man whom I failed to recognize as a member of the ship's company. He was standing near the opening of the after-hatchway, which had not yet been battened down, and his gaze was fixed upon me. He was a broad-shouldered fellow, about the average height, and was dressed in a tight-fitting black coat which reached to his knees. On his head was a skull cap with a long tassel hanging down from its top, and in his mouth was a handsome meerschaum pipe, which hung down by its stem to the middle of his breast. His beard was long and just turning gray, and his eyebrows were heavy and prominent.

      I stood staring at the figure, and I must say I never saw a more brutal expression upon a man's face. His large mouth and thick lips appeared to wear a sneering smile, while his eyes twinkled with undisguised amusement. His nose was large and flat like a Hottentot's, and while I gazed at him in astonishment, he raised it in the air and gave forth a snort which apparently meant that he was well satisfied with the way affairs were being carried on aboard the ship and he was consequently amused.

      "Here! you man; what the deuce are you doing aboard here?" I asked as I advanced to the break of the poop and stared down at him. He gave another snort, and looked at me with undisguised contempt, but disdained to answer and turned away, going to the lee rail and expectorating over the side. Then he came slowly back across the main deck, while my spleen rose at his superior indifference. I have always been a man of the people, and have fought my way along to whatever position I have held on the comprehensive rule of give and take. Nothing is so offensive to me as the assumption of superiority when backed solely by a man's own conception of his value. Therefore it was in no pleasant tone that I addressed the stranger on his return to the deck beneath me.

      "My fine cock," said I, "if you haven't a tongue, you probably have ears, and if you don't want them to feel like the grate-bars of the galley stove, you'll do well to sing out when I speak. Can you rise to that?"

      The man looked me squarely in the eyes, and I never saw such a fiendish expression come into a human face as that which gathered in his. "You infernal, impudent—" he began; and here for a moment followed a string of foul oaths from the man's lips, while he passed his hand behind his back and drew forth a long knife. Then without a moment's further hesitation he sprang up the steps to the poop.

      The fiendishness of the attack took me off my guard, for I was not prepared for such a serious fracas during the first half hour in command of the deck; but I saw there was little time to lose. There were no belaying-pins handy, so the thing for me was to get in as close as possible and get the fellow's knife.

      As he came up the steps, I rushed for him and kicked out with all my strength, when his face was level with my knees. The toe of my heavy shoe caught him solidly in the neck, and he went over backward almost in a complete somersault, landing with a crash upon the main deck just outside the window of Mr. Trunnell's room. He was stunned by the fall, and I hastened down to seize him before he could recover. Just as I gained the main deck, however, he gave a snort and started to his feet. Then he let out a yell like a madman and closed with me, my right hand luckily reaching his wrist below the knife.

      It was up and down, and all over the deck for a time, the men crowding aft around us, but fearing to take a hand. The fellow had enormous strength, and the way he made that knife hand jump and twist gave me all I could do to keep fast to it. Soon I found I was losing ground, and he noted the fact, exerting himself more and more as he found me failing. Then it dawned upon me that I was in a bad fix, and I tried to think quickly for some means to save myself. In another mad struggle he would wrench himself clear, and his ugly look told me plainly how much mercy I could expect. I gave one last despairing grip on his wrist as he tore wildly about, and then I felt his arm slip clear of my fingers, and I waited for the stroke with my left arm drawn up to stop its force as far as possible. I could almost feel the sting of the steel in my tense nerves, when something suddenly caught me around the middle and pressed me with great force against my enemy. His face was almost against mine, but his arms were pinioned to his sides, powerless, and then I was aware that we both were encircled by the ape-like arms of the mate, Mr. Trunnell. How the little fellow held on was a marvel. He braced his short legs wide apart, and giving a hug that almost took the breath out of me, bawled lustily for some man to pass a lashing.

      Suddenly a man rushed aft and passed a line around the stranger, and I saw that the young landlubber to whom, earlier in the morning, I had been so harsh was a man to be depended on. The young fellow tied my enemy up in short order, although the knots he used would not have done any credit to a sailor. But I was more than thankful when I had a chance to wring the long knife out of the murderous stranger's hand, and I spoke out to the smooth-faced fellow. "You'll do, my boy, even if you don't know a yard from a main-brace bumpkin. Pass a line around his legs and stuff a swab into his mouth if he don't stop swearing."

      "Steady," said Trunnell, "none of that," as the swab was being brought up. "But, Captain Andrews, if you don't belay your tongue we'll have to do something." And the little mate squared his shoulders, and gazed calmly down upon the prostrate stranger who foamed at the mouth with impotent fury.

      "So," I said, "this is the ruffian who jumped his bail and is aboard here on the sneak? I reckon we'll tack ship and stand back again to put him where he belongs."

      I was breathing heavily from the fight, and stood leaning against the cabin to recover, while Mr. Trunnell and the fellow Jim, who had helped tie the skipper up, appeared to be in doubt how to proceed. The noise of the scuffle and our conversation had aroused the captain in the cabin, and as I finished speaking he came to the break of the poop and looked down on the main deck. I was aware of his hooked nose and strange, glinting eyes almost before I turned, as he spoke. He placed his foot upon the rail and gave a dry cough.

      "I reckon there ain't any call to tack ship," he said slowly; "a pair of irons'll do the rest. Jest clap them on him, hand and foot, Mr. Rolling, and then rivet him to the deck away up forrads. If he don't stow that bazoo of his, you might ram the end of a handspike in his mouth and see if he'll bite."

      "Who are you, you molly-hawk, to give orders aboard here?" roared Andrews, from where he lay on deck. "What's happened, Trunnell, when a swivel-eyed idiot with a beak like an albatross stands on the poop and talks to me like this?"

      "He's Captain Thompson, in command, owing to the little—the little fracas you was mixed into last v'yage. We didn't exactly expect to have ye this trip, sir," said the mate.

      "Well, I'm here, ain't I? Sing out, can't you see me? Has your hair struck in and tickled your brain so you don't know who's boss aboard here? Who's this galoot you've just kept from being ripped to ribbons? I'll settle matters with you later on for meddling in this affair, you kelp-haired sea-pig. Sink you, Trunnell; I never expected you to turn rusty like the miserable swab you are."

      "Don't you think it would be best to stand away for port again, sir?" said the fellow Jim, looking sharply at the skipper on the poop as he spoke, and then to myself and Trunnell.

      "We don't keer for your suggestions, young feller," said the skipper, leaning over the rail above us. "When there's any orders to be given, I'll attend to matters