efficacious when backed by muscle, and they are accustomed to doing
things for themselves. God is everywhere, they have heard, but he flings
a shadow over the land for half the year that they may not find him; so
they grope in darkness, and it is not to be wondered that they often
doubt, and deem the Decalogue out of gear.

Jan ran blindly, reckoning not of the way of his feet, for he was
mastered by the verb "to live." To live! To exist! Buck flashed gray
through the air, but missed. The man struck madly at him, and stumbled.
Then the white teeth of Bright closed on his mackinaw jacket, and he
pitched into the snow. _To live_! _To exist_! He fought wildly as
ever, the centre of a tossing heap of men and dogs. His left hand
gripped a wolf-dog by the scruff of the back, while the arm was passed
around the neck of Lawson. Every struggle of the dog helped to throttle
the hapless sailor. Jan's right hand was buried deep in the curling
tendrils of Red Bill's shaggy head, and beneath all, Mr. Taylor lay
pinned and helpless. It was a deadlock, for the strength of his madness
was prodigious; but suddenly, without apparent reason, Jan loosed his
various grips and rolled over quietly on his back. His adversaries drew
away a little, dubious and disconcerted. Jan grinned viciously.

"Mine friends," he said, still grinning, "you haf asked me to be
politeful, und now I am politeful. Vot piziness vood you do mit me?"

"That's right, Jan. Be ca'm," soothed Red Bill. "I knowed you'd come to
yer senses afore long. Jes' be ca'm now, an' we'll do the trick with
neatness and despatch."

"Vot piziness? Vot trick?"