heavy punishment. Gaston bellowed like a sick bull under all the
strenuous handling. He must have ached in every bone in his body
when Hickey finally caught him, on a rebound, and held him off at
arm's length.

"Had about enough, Frenchy?" demanded the big sailor.

"Oh, mercy, monsieur!" panted the fellow wailingly. "I have had much
plenty to last me all my life."

"I wish I knew whether ye was lyin'," muttered Hickey, thoughtfully.
"I don't feel a bit tired, yet. Do you, Jerry?"

"Me? The exercise has warmed me up fine," grinned the smaller sailor.

"Mercy, messieurs, mercy!" wailed Gaston, sinking down to his shaking
knees, for he feared that these grim tormentors meant to kill him.

"I'd just as soon you'd let up on the scoundrel, if you don't mind,
mates," broke in Jack. "You see what a cur he is when he isn't having
it all his own way. I told him, back in the cave, that he'd be just
this sort of a fellow if the tables happened to be turned."

"Did ye say ye was going to turn him over to the officers?" asked
Hickey.

"Yes," spoke Jack Benson, decisively. "A fellow plying the trade of
this one needs to be locked up as long as possible."

"Oh, no, no, no, my brave Captain!" implored Gaston, wobbling around