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with ill grace and fell to scraping the chains, which was a task to humble the tallest pride. There was that in the laughter of the crew which had taught discretion to even bolder men than Martin Barwick.

“I have seen his kind before,’’ a voice said low in Phil’s ear. “But though there be much of the calf in him, beware lest you rouse him to such a pitch that he will draw and strike.”

It was Will Canty, the youth who had already won the young boatswain’s liking, spoke thus. He was a comerado more to Phil’s taste than was the luckless Martin; but fate is not given to consulting tastes, and necessity forces upon a traveller such bedfellows as he meets by the way.