He scowled. "Damn Williams, anyhow! His instructions were--but
never mind about that. Get rid of the whiskey."

Turner coming up the companionway at that moment, Vail left me. I
had understood him perfectly. It was common talk in the forecastle
that Turner was drinking hard, and that, in fact, the cruise had
been arranged by his family in the hope that, away from his clubs;
he would alter his habits--a fallacy, of course. Taken away from
his customary daily round, given idle days on a summer sea, and
aided by Williams, the butler, he was drinking his head off.

Early as it was, he was somewhat the worse for it that morning.
He made directly for me. It was the first time he had noticed me,
although it was the third day out. He stood in front of me, his
red eyes flaming, and, although I am a tall man, he had an inch
perhaps the advantage of me.

"What's this about Williams?" he demanded furiously. "What do
you mean by a thing like that?"

"He was bullying me. I didn't intend to drop him."

The ship was rolling gently; he made a pass at me with a magazine
he carried, and almost lost his balance. The women had risen,
and were watching from the corner of the after house. I caught him
and steadied him until he could clutch a chair.

"You try any tricks like that again, and you'll go overboard," he
stormed. "Who are you, anyhow? Not one of our men?"