upward in the _Golden Bough_. Shipped in the foc'sle, and ended the
voyage in the cabin. Stepped into dead man's shoes. And more
important than that--I won my manhood on those old decks."

"Ah, performed some valorous deed?" purred the writing guy.

"No; I abstained from performing an infamous deed," said Captain
Shreve. "I think that is the way most men win to manhood."

"Oh!" said the writing guy. He seemed about to say a lot more, when I
put my oar in again.

"Let us have the yarn, Captain," I begged.

Captain Shreve squinted at the sun, and then favored the passenger with
one of his rare smiles. "Why, yes," he said. "We have an idle
afternoon ahead of us, and I'll gladly spin the yarn. You say, sir,
you are interested in ships, and sailors, and, particularly, in 'King'
Waldon's history. Well, perhaps you may find some material of use in
this tale of mine; though I fear my lack of skill in recounting it may
offend your trained mind.

"Yet it is simply life and living--this yarn. Human beings set down
upon those decks to work out their separate destinies as Fate and
character directed. Aye, and their characters, and the motives that
inspired their acts, were diverse enough, heaven knows.

"There was Swope, Black Yankee Swope, who captained that hell-ship, a
man with a twisted heart, a man who delighted in evil, and worked it
for its own sake. There was Holy Joe, the shanghaied parson, whose