reached the bottom he would raise his arms and lift him down. But
Skipper was too far gone to remember that Jerry existed. He staggered,
with wide-spread arms to keep from falling, along the cabin floor for'ard
to the bunk in the tiny stateroom.

Jerry was truly of a kingly line. He wanted to call out and beg to be
taken down. But he did not. He controlled himself, he knew not why,
save that he was possessed by a nebulous awareness that Skipper must be
considered as a god should be considered, and that this was no time to
obtrude himself on Skipper. His heart was torn with desire, although he
made no sound, and he continued only to yearn over the companion combing
and to listen to the faint sounds of Skipper's progress for'ard.

But even kings and their descendants have their limitations, and at the
end of a quarter of an hour Jerry was ripe to cease from his silence.
With the going below of Skipper, evidently in great trouble, the light
had gone out of the day for Jerry. He might have stalked the wild-dog,
but no inducement lay there. Lerumie passed by unnoticed, although he
knew he could bully him and make him give deck space. The myriad scents
of the land entered his keen nostrils, but he made no note of them. Not
even the flopping, bellying mainsail overhead, as the _Arangi_ rolled
becalmed, could draw a glance of quizzical regard from him.

Just as it was tremblingly imperative that Jerry must suddenly squat
down, point his nose at the zenith, and vocalize his heart-rending woe,
an idea came to him. There is no explaining how this idea came. No more
can it be explained than can a human explain why, at luncheon to-day, he
selects green peas and rejects string beans, when only yesterday he
elected to choose string beans and to reject green peas. No more can it
be explained than can a human judge, sentencing a convicted criminal and