that moment, by the light of some vivid flash of thought, all the
difficulties of the situation. "If you don't go back with me there will
be nothing left for you to go back to--very soon. Your gunboat won't
find a single ship's rib or a single corpse left for a landmark. That
she won't. It isn't a gunboat skipper you want. I am the man you
want. You don't know your luck when you see it, but I know mine, I
do--and--look here--"

He touched Carter's chest with his forefinger, and said with a sudden
gentleness of tone:

"I am a white man inside and out; I won't let inoffensive people--and a
woman, too--come to harm if I can help it. And if I can't help, nobody
can. You understand--nobody! There's no time for it. But I am like any
other man that is worth his salt: I won't let the end of an undertaking
go by the board while there is a chance to hold on--and it's like
this--"

His voice was persuasive--almost caressing; he had hold now of a coat
button and tugged at it slightly as he went on in a confidential manner:

"As it turns out, Mr. Carter, I would--in a manner of speaking--I would
as soon shoot you where you stand as let you go to raise an alarm
all over this sea about your confounded yacht. I have other lives to
consider--and friends--and promises--and--and myself, too. I shall keep
you," he concluded, sharply.

Carter drew a long breath. On the deck above, the two men could
hear soft footfalls, short murmurs, indistinct words spoken near the
skylight. Shaw's voice rang out loudly in growling tones: