cursed them; so Mr. Gibney, realizing that all was over, beat the
deck with his hand in token of surrender. Hicks and Flaherty
waited until the fallen gladiator had recovered sufficient breath
to sit up; then they pounced upon him, lifted him to the rail,
and dropped him overboard. Captain Scraggs shrieked in protest at
this added touch of barbarity, and Dan Hicks, turning, beheld
Scraggsy's white face at the hatch.

"You're next, Scraggs," he called cheerfully, and turned to peer
over the rail. Mr. Gibney had emerged on the surface and was
swimming slowly away toward an adjacent float where small boats
landed. He climbed wearily up on the float and sat there, gazing
across at Hicks and Flaherty without animus, for to his way of
thinking he had gotten off lightly, considering the enormity of
his offense. The least he had anticipated was three months in
hospital, and so grateful was he to Hicks and Flaherty for their
great forbearance that he strangled a resolve to "lay" for Hicks
and Flaherty and thrash them individually--something he was fully
able to do--and forgot his aches and pains in a lively interest
as to the fate of Captain Scraggs at the hands of the towboat
men. He was aware that Captain Scraggs had failed ignominiously
to rally to the Gibney appeal to repel boarders, and in his own
expressive terminology he hoped that what the enemy would do to
the dastard would be "a-plenty."

The enemy, meanwhile, had turned their attention upon Scraggs,
who had dodged below like a frightened rabbit and sought shelter
in the shaft alley. He had sufficient presence of mind, as he
dashed through the engine room, to snatch a large monkey wrench
off the tool rack on the wall, and, kneeling just inside the