to work. It was this line of reasoning that saved
Billy's skull on one or two occasions when his impudence had
been sufficient to have provoked the skipper to a personal
assault upon him under ordinary conditions; and Mr. Ward,
having tasted of Billy's medicine once, had no craving for
another encounter with him that would entail personal conflict.

The entire crew was made up of ruffians and unhung murderers,
but Skipper Simms had had little experience with
seamen of any other ilk, so he handled them roughshod, using
his horny fist, and the short, heavy stick that he habitually
carried, in lieu of argument; but with the exception of Billy
the men all had served before the mast in the past, so that
ship's discipline was to some extent ingrained in them all.

Enjoying his work, the life was not an unpleasant one
for the mucker. The men of the forecastle were of the kind
he had always known--there was no honor among them, no
virtue, no kindliness, no decency. With them Billy was at
home--he scarcely missed the old gang. He made his
friends among them, and his enemies. He picked quarrels,
as had been his way since childhood. His science and his
great strength, together with his endless stock of underhand
tricks brought him out of each encounter with fresh laurels.
Presently he found it difficult to pick a fight--his messmates
had had enough of him. They left him severely alone.

These ofttimes bloody battles engendered no deep-seated
hatred in the hearts of the defeated. They were part of
the day's work and play of the half-brutes that Skipper