Joel's cheeks flushed slowly, and he answered: "I am anxious to
forget--whatever shames the House of Shore."
Mark threw back his head and laughed aloud. "Bless you, boy," he
exclaimed. "'Tis no shame to you to have fallen victim to our numbers."
But there was a heat in his tones that told Joel he was shaken. And Joel
insisted steadily:
"It was not my own shame I feared."
"Mine, then?" Mark challenged.
"Aye," said Joel. "Yours."
Mark bent toward him with a mocking flare of anger in his eyes; and he
said harshly: "You've spoken too much for a small man. Be silent. And go
below."
Joel waited for an instant; then his shoulders stirred as though he chose
a hard course, and he held out his hand and said quietly: "Give me the
guns, Mark."
Mark stared at him; and he laughed aloud. "You're immense, boy," he
applauded. "The cool nerve of you...." His eyes warmed with frank
admiration. "Joel, hark to this," he cried, and jerked his head toward
the captive Finch. "You've ripped the innards out of that mate of mine.
I'll give you the job. You're mate of the _Nathan Ross_ and I'm proud to
have you...."
"I am captain of the _Nathan Ross_," said Joel. "And you are my brother,
and a--mutineer. Give me the guns."
Mark threw up his hand angrily. "You'll not hear reason. Then--go below,
and stay there. You...."
There are few men who can stand flat-footed and still hit a crushing
blow; but Joel did just this. When Mark began to speak, Joel's hands had
been hanging limply at his sides. On Mark's last word, Joel's right hand
whipped up as smoothly as a whip snaps; and it smacked on Mark's lean jaw
with much the sound a whip makes. It struck just behind the point of the
jaw, on the left hand side; and Mark's head jerked back, and his knees
sagged, and he tottered weakly forward into Joel's very arms.
Joel's hands were at the other's belt, even as Mark fell. He brought out
the revolvers, then let Mark slip down to the deck; and he stepped over
the twitching body of his brother, and caught up the two rifles, and
dropped them, with the revolvers, over the after rail.
Mark's splendid body had already begun to recover from the blow; he was
struggling to sit up, and he saw what Joel did, and cried aloud: "Don't
be a fool, boy. Keep them.... Hell!" For the weapons were gone. Joel
turned, and looked down at him; and he said quietly:
"While I can help it, there'll be no blood shed on my ship."
Mark swept an arm toward the waist of the ship, and Joel looked and saw a
growing knot of angry men there. "See them, do you?" Mark demanded.
"They're drunk for blood. It's out of your hands, Joel. You've thrown
your ace away. Now, boy--what will you do?"
The men began to surge aft, along the deck.