He shook his head. Perhaps he had no formulated speculations of ghosts.
"Goblins?" He still looked doubtful, and I went into detail.
"Horns?" I asked.
He nodded, and shook convulsively.
"Big mouth, with teeth?"
"Yes, and hair--long hair. And dirty, oh, so dirty."
"Did it have hands, or were they all feet?" I asked, enjoying the joke
immensely; for in my babyhood I had felt these fears and seen these
things.
"Claws," he answered, "like the cat, only bigger, and all bluggy--all
bluggy."
"Tell us more, Freddie," I went on. "I couldn't see him very well, in
that dark corner."
"He looked at me," answered Freddie, shivering in his mother's arms,
"and he opened his eyes, until they were all white, and he opened his
mouth, until it was all teeth. And he wanted to bite me. I knew he
wanted to bite me."
"Did he have horns, Freddie?" I persisted.
"Yes--horns on his head, and wings--dirty wings, with claws. But when
you kicked him, he looked at you and wanted to bite you; but you made
him run. He backed out the door. Didn't you see?"
"Oh, see," I answered bravely, though my heart was beating rather fast,
and my tongue somewhat dry against the roof of my mouth. "Don't ever
be afraid while I'm around, Freddie. I'll take care of you."
Then his mother took me by the ear, led me out, and banished me, saying
that if I taught her little boy any such nonsense I must stay away.
That night, in my darkened bedroom, I saw things myself--things with
claws, and horns, and wings, and eyes. But as I had seen them since
my earliest remembrance, and had only drawn upon my experiences in
my suggestions to Freddie, I managed to banish them and go to sleep,
not knowing then that Freddie, my pet playmate, had gathered up these
primordial memories from me, and delivered them back. Later on I
understood.
My banishment was thorough, and enforced to the limit. I saw little of
Freddie through the years of boyhood, only hearing at times that he was
a model boy, an example of good behavior to his fellow schoolmates,
and a reproach to me, a black sheep of a family in which were no ewes
or lambs. My father was a policeman, my two brothers firemen, and my
mother a woman of such soul and character that she could master the
four of us. She thrashed me through high school, but I evaded the
ministry, for which she was preparing me, by running away to sea at the
age of eighteen.
I was a second mate when I met Freddie again. It was when I, with the
first mate of the schooner I belonged to, and two of the crew, were
returning from an evening at the theater, that we passed a group of
young men, smoking cigarettes, and one of the men said:
"Get onto the dudes."
One of them promptly followed, spoke a few sharp, incisive words,
and gave the critic such a thrashing as astonished us all. It was
Freddie, twenty years old, well-dressed and gentlemanly, but with an
aggressiveness that never found warrant in his childhood. When he had
licked the man, I talked with him amicably.
"Oh, yes," he said. "I'm a seafaring man, too, only I went through
Annapolis, and will start on my practice cruise in a week or so. Then
I'll get my commission in the navy."
"You've done well, Fred." I felt moved to drop the "Freddie." "I've put
in seven years, and am only second mate in schooners."
"But you can do better," he answered. "Why, every day of my life I've
thought of you, done the things and said the things that I fancied you
might do or say. I never forgot the time you kicked the monster."
"Oh, when you were a baby?" I answered. "Why, I'd about forgotten that,
myself."
"Shake your crowd," he said, "and I'll shake mine. Come with me, and
talk. I've lots to say."
We talked that evening, to little results. I found Fred vapid,
flippant, and uninteresting. He had spent his childhood and youth at
home, winning prizes at Sunday school and at the dancing academy.
At Annapolis, he had learned boxing and football; but, never in his
life had he struck a blow in anger until this evening, when he had
thrashed an able seaman. He was as surprised at the feat as I was
myself, and asked me if he had done it in the fit and proper manner. I
was disappointed in him, and left him, with a willingness not to meet
him again. And that night I had the frightful dreams of my childhood,
though not then, nor before nor since, have I been a drinking man.
I may as well describe them now, for they appeared again and again
while we lay in port, and bear strongly upon this story. There was the
menacing monster that I had recognized by Fred's childish description,
and the imaginary thing which I had kicked away from him--a creature
of teeth and eyes, of horns, claws, wings, and scales, familiar to all
sensitive children, perhaps, and possibly descended through the ages as
a primordial memory of some prehistoric reptile. But this, terrifying
though it was, did not afflict me greatly; for I was somewhat familiar
with it, and even in my dreams knew that I could escape it by flight,
and in the waking, or half-waking, condition drive it from me by
imagined attack.
It was a new element in these new dreams that made me dread the night
as a time of torment and horror, and finally so worked upon my nerves
that, ascribing it to the influence of my environment, I quit my berth
long before the day of sailing.
This new thing can be described easier than realized. It was
dark, deadly quiet, and inert, formless, except for its three
dimensions--about two feet long, and six inches broad and high, with
neither eyes, feet, wings, teeth, tail, ears, nor even a mouth. Yet it
had power of volition, and was always behind me. It followed me across
miles of open country, through pathless jungles, through long, spacious
halls, sometimes lighted, but always empty.
In one dream I took to an open boat, and pulled frantically to sea,
only to find it at my back when I turned for a sight ahead. Again I
climbed a tree, and saw it resting on the bough behind me.
It was on this account that I changed my berth, shipping before the
mast on a deep-water ship, to get out of that port the more hurriedly.
And as I wakened at seven bells, on the first morning out, and rolled
out for my breakfast, I heard the plaintive voice of my childhood
friend, Fred. He was out on deck, evidently of the other watch; for he
was dressed in the tarry rags of a merchant sailor, and held in his
hand a deck swab, with which he was endeavoring to dry a wet scupper,
while the second mate lashed him with a rope's end.
He shrank under the blows, and tears ran from his eyes; but he had no
sooner spied me, staring in amazement from the forecastle door, than
his attitude changed. Dropping the swab, with fury in his still wet
eyes, and oaths on his lips, he launched himself at his tormentor.
There was a confused tangle of limbs for a few moments, and Fred
emerged the victor.
The second mate, his face somewhat disfigured, limped aft for
assistance, and Fred turned to me.
"God!" he said brokenly. "I'm glad you're here."
"Yes, but what brought _you_ here?" I answered. "Shanghaied?"
"Yes, I suppose so," he chuckled. "Fact is, I went on a dreadful bat
the night I left you. Wonder what the folks at home'll think--and the
commandant at the academy?"
He did not seem to feel his position, and I answered coldly: "Looks as
though your prospects were done for."
Then, along came the first mate, carrying wrist irons, and the skipper,
with a pistol.
"Where's this man killer?" demanded the mate, stalking up to us. Fred
did not flinch; he looked him squarely in the eye. But I, spying
the skipper's gun on a level with my head, stepped back into the
forecastle. Our combined attitude influenced the mate.
"You!" he snarled at me. "Come out of that."
He sprang to the door, the manacles swinging over his head, and before
I could dodge he had laid my cheek open with the blow.
Though I had done my deep-water sailing under American mates--the
harshest in the world--I had never yet, in my whole nine years at sea,
received a blow; and, as second mate in big schooners, I had not found
need to strike one. The pain and the shock of this assault upon my
person and dignity drove out of me every sentiment and attribute of a
civilized man trained to respect authority--all regard for law except
the great first law, and for a few moments I was an animal. And in
those few moments the mate died.
He was a large, strong man, but I was his equal. I do not know just
what part of his body I first closed my hands upon. I only know that
my thick finger nails sank in, wherever I gripped. He seemed no harder
than a ripe melon, and I shifted my hold, while we reeled about, again
and again, until I had him by the throat; then, with all my strength, I
closed my hands until my thumb and finger nails met--somewhere. Then my
limited consciousness went out in a flash of light, ending in darkness;
and, when I came to, I was ironed in the lazaret, my head aching badly,
blood on my face; and Fred, also manacled, sitting opposite, and
looking at me. I could see, even in the half light, that his eyes were
red from weeping.
"What's happened?" I asked, as I painfully sat up, and looked at my
manacles.
"Oh, you're in for it," he answered loftily, yet with a jerky,
hysterical twang to his voice. "You killed the mate, and the captain
thinks I've killed the second mate. He struck you down with an iron
belaying pin, and held me under his gun while the steward put the irons
on us both. Oh, why did you do it? What will become of me?" He began to
cry.
"Shut up, you whimpering ninny!" I growled. "What troubles me just now
is, what kind of a man _are_ you? You can fight, but you cry over it.
If I killed the mate, I expect to swing for it, but I'm not crying."
"But I wouldn't have done it if you hadn't appeared," he quavered. "You
encouraged me."
"What's that? You'll say I encouraged you to drink next, and get
shanghaied!"
"You did. I never drank in my life till I met you, the other night. I
never fought anybody. I never swore. I woke up last night aboard this
ship, but I don't know how I got here. It must have been because you
shipped."
"Yes, and pulled you on board with an invisible rope! Stop that kind of
talk. I want to sleep."
I felt the stupor that comes of extreme physical pain; for, besides the
bruise on my head, caused by the captain's belaying pin, every bone and
joint ached with the exertions I had put forth in my struggle with the
mate. I lay back, but Fred would not be still. He mumbled to himself
and a few words that I caught indicated that he wanted a drink. Opening
my eyes and looking, I beheld him brushing his knees, and squirming to
the length of his tether, as though to get away from something.
"Drive it off, Jim," he choked. "Kick it away. It's afraid of you."
Wondering what was in his mind, yet remembering the incident of his
childhood and my own late nightmares, I struck out with my heels, and
firmly commanded the creature to go. It went, I suppose, for he thanked
me, and subsided; then I lay back, and was almost asleep when he roused
me again, this time with a shriek.
"The thing!" he gasped. "The thing without legs, or arms, or head! Help
me, Jim!"
This was too much for me. Dimly realizing that there was a psychic,
if not moral, sympathy between us, yet unwilling to defy _this_
THING that troubled him, or even to question him, I sang out
to the man at the wheel, whom I could just perceive through a crack
left by the partly opened hatch.
"On deck, there!" I called. "On deck, you at the wheel! Tell the
skipper that this man down here has the jimjams, and needs attention."
He answered me, and then I heard his voice, calling forward. Soon the
captain appeared, dropping down the hatch, and stepping quickly out
of our reach. In spite of his demonstration with the pistol, he was a
kindly faced man of about fifty, slight and stoop-shouldered, a man
that any troubled soul might appeal to.
"What seems to be the matter here?" he asked, looking us over.
"D. T.'s, captain," I answered, pointing to Fred. "He needs a drink,
and then some bromide, or whatever you have for the symptoms."
"But _you_ seem to be all right."
"All but the scalp wound from your belaying pin, captain," I answered.
"It came too late, from what I have heard."
"Yes, you had killed my first mate before I could reach you. I did
not want to shoot. What manner of men are you, who can kill with your
hands? My mate is dead; my second mate unable to speak, scarcely able
to breathe. How did you do it?"
"As for me, captain," I answered, "I did not know I was doing it. He
struck me in my watch below; I wasn't on deck. I never was struck
before in my life, not even as a boy. And when I have been aft, I never
needed to. Of course, I'm sorry if I have killed him."
"You have," he responded mournfully. "We gave him sea burial at noon.
Have you been aft?"
"As second mate in schooners. I am not a good navigator. My friend,
here, my playmate, schoolmate, and townsman, is a graduate of
Annapolis, and if you can get the jimjams out of him he can navigate;
for, captain"--I looked him squarely in the face--"I understand your
predicament."
"I will think," he answered, after a pause. "I will admit this,
now--that you were both sorely provoked, and that I am sorry I shipped
such mates. Like you, I never struck a blow or received one in all my
going to sea. But I want to know how this young man mastered my second
mate." He looked at Fred, still brushing his knees, and staring into
the dark corners. The query was repeated before Fred answered.
"Oh," he said, as he raised his manacled hands, and pressed his fingers
into his throat below the ears. "I did this. I've studied it, and when
I felt his thumbs in my eyes I gave it to him. He will recover speech
and breathing in time."
"Jiu jitsu, captain," I added, in explanation. "I've heard of the
trick. They teach a great many things at Annapolis not down in the
curriculum."
What the captain might have said in response was prevented by Fred's
plea for a drink, and the sad-faced man withdrew, promising to send the
steward.
Fred, tranquilized by a drink of whiskey and a large dose of bromide,
was soon sound asleep; and a few moments later I followed him into
the land of Nod, where I found the clawed monster and the clawless,
headless, eyeless _thing_. I fought the former and fled from the
latter, wakening at last from extremity of terror, with my clothing
drenched with perspiration. Fred was still asleep, and I was satisfied
to leave him so, and remain awake myself. Even then, with my limited
knowledge of psychology, I remembered that I tried to puzzle out this
strange bond of soul between this weakling and myself; but I could not
solve the problem. All that I could formulate was that in my presence
he could fight, and be a man; in my absence, or when unconscious, he
was a sniveling whiner. As for the nightmares that came to me lately
from contact with him, I had suffered from them before he was born.
This was what stopped me; I could not understand this.
After supper, when Fred was awake, and more or less normal, we received
another visit from the captain. He spoke first to me.
"You are a man of force and character," he said, "and of some
education, I can see."
"A high-school graduate, captain, nothing more."
"Are you a navigator, as you say?"
"I can take the sun for latitude, that's all."
"I am sorry. It will not do. I need a mate who can stand watch, command
the men--for I have a hard crowd--and keep the log."
"I can command the men, if you're thinking of me; but I never saw a
log."
"And your friend?"
"A graduate navigator from Annapolis," spoke up Fred. "But I never
commanded men."
"You will do. The laws of insurance demand that the first mate be a
navigator. You two men must stand trial for manslaughter at the next
port. Will you sail to that port as officers of my ship, or do you
prefer to remain in irons?"
We gladly chose the former, and gave our words of honor not to attempt
an escape at the end of the passage. Thus secured, the captain made
me second mate, and Fred first mate, and as he unlocked our irons
promised to give us his sympathy and testimony at the trial. For he had
witnessed the tormenting of Fred by the second mate, and had verified
my protest of noncombativeness.
So Fred, an untried boy of twenty, with only a book-taught knowledge
of navigation and seamanship, assumed the duties of first officer in a
two-thousand-ton, square-rigged ship, in place of a man I had killed;
and I, a schooner second mate, stepped into a like position in this
big square-rigger. In place of the man he had disabled--both of us
prisoners under the law--for the simple reason that among the crew no
others were in any way capable.
I do not say that I assumed my new duties without misgivings at the
future, or that I wholly justified myself _to_ myself in regard to my
killing the mate; but I won the skipper's approval at once; and, as
Fred got the whiskey out of him, slept well in my watch below, seeing
neither monsters nor _things_.
For a few days, Fred was more of a third mate than a first, as the
skipper stood watch with him, until, under his tutelage, Fred had
mastered the merchant-ship rig. Then he proved competent, and the men,
respecting his position, if not him, gave him no trouble.
He and I agreed very well. I was more amused than irritated at his
quarter-deck airs; and a quiet hint from the skipper that I study up
on navigation, with the loan of an "Epitome," a nautical almanac, and
an old log book, gave promise that our positions might some time be
reversed. And, so adjusted, we sailed out into the broad Atlantic.
So far I have said nothing of the weather. As a fact, it blew a gale
from the west or northwest continually from the first day out until we
hit the Gulf Stream, by which time, though fair, the wind forced us to
heave the ship to--that is, to bring her up on the starboard tack under
short sail. We performed the maneuver successfully, and the darkness
had come when the gear was coiled up, and the watch sent below. The
ship took it easily, plunging up and down in the same hole, and taking
very little water on board. But the change from the long, swinging
heave and roll of a ship running free, to the short, jerky lifts and
dives of a ship hove to, was too sudden for the steward in the cabin.
I had the deck, and from my position in the weather alley could hear
the crashing of dishes sent to the floor, and the scraping and bumping
of cabin furniture. Also, I heard a scream, and wondered if Fred had
the jumps again; but before I could even speculate on the matter, the
after companion opened, and the steward appeared, his face twisting
in excitement. He was German, and he stammered; and, while wondering
what he had on his mind, as he endeavored to speak, I noticed a cloud
of smoke floating away to leeward from one of the lee cabin windows. I
sprang aft to the steward, and he found voice.
"Fire!" he said explosively. "Der lamp f-f-fell der t-t-t-table off."
"Call all hands forward there," I sang out. "Bring the deck pump aft,
and bear a hand." Then I tumbled down into the smoke-filled after
cabin, followed by the steward.
"In der s-s-s-storeroom," he stammered.
"Where's the captain?" I asked, as I groped my way through the smoke.
"Der c-c-cappen is fall down by der storeroom," he answered.
A stifled scream came out of the smoke, and a slim figure in a dressing
gown staggered into view, falling helplessly into my arms. It was a
girl, and by the dim light from the swinging lamp above, I saw that she
was young, pale, and sweet of face.
"In God's name, what's this?" I said. "Here, steward, take her on deck;
then come back, and get something warm to cover her."
He took the fainting girl from me, and went up the companion. Then I
sought my way through the choking fumes to the door leading into the
forward cabin, off which was the steward's storeroom. Taking a good
breath of the best air available--near the floor--I plunged through and
stumbled over a prostrate body.
Grabbing it by the collar and stooping low, in case I had to take
a new breath, I dragged it swiftly back through the door and up to
the companion, where the air was somewhat sweeter. I recognized the
captain, and as men were overhead on the poop, waiting for orders,
I had them haul him up, and lead the deck hose into the forward
companion. Then, to get there the more quickly, and thinking of Fred,
possibly suffocating in his room, I took another blind dash into the
forward cabin, and found sweeter air, also more light. And there was
Fred, who had opened the forward door for air, coolly playing the
stream from a fire extinguisher into the blazing storeroom.
"Never mind your hose," he said. "I'll have it out in a jiffy."
But the men were already crowding into the cabin with the hose; and,
directing me to go on deck and watch the ship, he ordered the men to
drag out on deck all half-consumed articles, as fast as they could
handle them. Angry and jealous that this young prig should have proved
himself the man of the hour, I obeyed him, and found the skipper and
the young lady aft near the wheel, both conscious, but weak. I reported
that the fire was out, thanks to the first mate and a fire extinguisher.
"Yes, it was in his room, ready for such an emergency," said the
captain. "Josie, this is the second mate, Mr. Winters; my niece, Mr.
Winters. She has been very seasick, so far, and has not shown herself.
Do you know, Mr. Winters, I have hopes of our first officer. He is
young, but efficient."
"Of course he is, sir," I answered hypocritically. "His education is a
valuable asset."
"Oh, but it was not his education, in this case. Why, he went down in
that stifling smoke, and rescued this little girl, just as she was
fainting away; then he went on into the forward cabin, and hauled me
out to safety. I honor that young man."
"Yes," said the girl. "I saw him, just as my senses were leaving me. He
seemed a demigod, so big, and broad-shouldered, and fearless. I knew I
was safe at that moment."
Before I could speak, Fred appeared, and I backed away. I knew that the
matter was too trifling of itself to make a point of--to assert that
I was the heroic individual that went down into the smoke; yet, when
I looked on and listened, while that apology for a seaman responded
politely to their thanks for saving their lives, I escaped the scene. I
went forward of the house, where I soon met the steward.
"Look here, you animated frankfurter," I said, as I collared him. "Did
you tell the skipper that the mate went down the after companion, and
pulled him out?"
"Sure," he answered earnestly. "You're a mate, ain'dt it?"
"Get out," I rejoined, pushing him from me. "If it wasn't for the
shame of it, I'd hit you. The 'mate' aboard ship is the first mate,
always--not the second, or the third."
"But I will tell him, all right, sir," he said.
"Don't trouble yourself," I responded angrily. "Let the matter drop.
The mate put the fire out, and that's all that's important."
So the matter dropped. It was my watch below from eight to twelve
that night, and I slept well, in spite of my anger and chagrin. It
was my watch on deck from twelve to four, and I stood it in the
tranquil poise of mind that usually comes to men after a sleep. I
forgave the poor, vain weakling, knowing that I was the stronger. But
in my watch below, from four to half-past seven in the morning, I
fought monsters and fled from the horrible _thing_, and awoke weak,
shaken, and nerveless. I had never tasted whiskey in my life, but in
my half-conscious condition there seemed to be the thought that I had
tasted it--a thought which merged into the mental query as to whether
it would not be better to stupefy myself, like drunkards, rather than
endure such torture when asleep and helpless. Then came full awakening,
and a return to my normal self.
As second mates eat at the second table, I went on deck and relieved
Fred. He seemed anxious to avoid direct conversation with me, and after
giving me the course and the happenings of the watch, hurried below.
When he came up, at eight bells, he was more friendly.
"Stunning fine girl," he said. "Just able to make a pretense at
breakfast, but she thinks I'm all right."
I mentally consigned him to the lower regions, and went to my
breakfast; but there was no sign of the young lady.
The wind died away that morning, and I made sail. For the first time
since sailing, the ship wore royals and skysails, sliding along with
a quartering breeze over a sea that was just a little too heavy for
seasick folk. Yet, about eleven, the girl came up, escorted by the
skipper. And as I looked at the pale, pure, clean-cut little face and
big, luminous eyes, I lost what philosophy my last nightmare had left
me. I knew that from that moment this girl was to be everything to me.
And I cursed the mock hero who had stolen my vantage. She went down
soon, and the wind seemed to blow colder.
At seven bells, the sun being in sight, Fred was roused, to take
meridian observations; and, as he stood in a patch of sunlight, I
noticed that he wabbled unsteadily, and that his eyes were sunken and
glassy. But I thought nothing of this until eight bells, when the
skipper informed me that, on overhauling the burned-out storeroom, he
had found a small keg of whiskey missing. As the men had assisted in
putting out the fire, he thought it advisable to have an overhaul of
the two forecastles, as whiskey in bulk was an unwise stimulant for
sailors at sea. So, while he and Fred were at dinner, I searched the
crew's quarters, but found nothing. In fact, remembering those glassy
eyes, I did not expect to. I so reported to the skipper, and when I had
finished my dinner I made a quick, unofficial, yet thorough, inspection
of Fred's room, and found nothing there. But I made no report of this.
He had hidden it.
From this on, Fred's condition was apparent to anyone who cared to
observe. I so cared, but do not think that the skipper did. He talked
with him, counseled him, and tutored him, glad, evidently, to be in a
position to aid so promising a young man.
Fred received it all with sodden gravity, too drunk to question, yet
sober enough to listen. I would have taken him in hand, bullied and
coerced him into giving up that store of whiskey, had I not been
maddened by jealousy and the sight of the girl's eyes, never resting
upon me, but following Fred about the deck, with the adoring gaze of
devotee. He was an exceptionally handsome youngster; and, to her, I
suppose, was a demigod, who had heroically saved her life, while I was
a person to be tolerated because necessary.
"Well," I said, between my teeth, "let him work out his own
salvation--or damnation."
He worked out the latter. In the lower berth in my room, just across
the passage from Fred's, was a living, wheezing, half-alive dead
man--the disabled second mate, whose place I was filling. At first,
he had glared unspeakable hatred at me, but as I had responded with a
few kindly acts born of pity, this look left his eyes, and gave way to
inquiry and interest. He could not speak, and could barely breathe,
but about this time seemed anxious to say something to me. Every day
he tried, and at last, somewhat distressed at his painful efforts, I
advised him to wait until he could talk, and not bother me like this.
So he stopped his efforts, and, as I had not thought to give him paper
and pencil, his message was deferred until too late. But in every watch
below I saw the _thing_.
We soon picked up the trade wind, and under the influence of mild blue
skies, racing white clouds, and warm weather, the young niece of the
captain recovered her health and spirits. There was color in her cheeks
and light in her eyes that bespoke a happy disposition; but she seldom
noticed me--in fact, she spoke to the man at the wheel much oftener,
and I could only grit my teeth, keep my clothing as neat as possible,
and study navigation in my watch below.
As I progressed, I was surprised to find how easy it was, and soon I
felt competent, if need arose, to take chronometer sights, lay out a
traverse, and keep the log.
As for Fred, he steadily grew worse. Not even the influence of that
beautiful little girl could keep him from tapping his secret store; and
soon his condition became such as to attract the skipper's attention.
Fred tumbled down the poop stairs one dog-watch, when all hands were
on deck, and in going forward to execute some task, zigzagged back and
forth.
"Mr. Winters," said the captain to me, "is that young man drunk?"
"I don't know, sir," I answered, resolved not to have a hand in his
undoing.
"My whiskey never was found. Do you think that he has secreted it?"
"Oh, uncle!" said the girl, who had listened. "What are you thinking
of? He is a perfect gentleman; he could not be a drunkard."
The captain still looked at me, waiting for my answer. I was half
resolved to give it truthfully, when a commotion forward forestalled
it. "Git aft where ye b'long, you drunken son of a boardin' master,"
shouted an Irishman of the crew, "an' sind the second mate, if you want
things done shipshape."
He had Fred by the collar, and was marching him ahead at the end of his
extended arm. With a final shove, and a kick, he sent Fred from him,
and went forward.
Fred fell in a heap; then arose, and, with a solemn scowl on his face,
climbed the steps, and joined us at the wheel. The girl looked at him
wonderingly, the skipper disdainfully. Fred's eyes were bleary, and his
walk unsteady; he had assisted his progress aft by leaning on the rail.
"Go down to your room, sir," said the captain sternly, "and remain
there. You are drunk. Get yourself out of sight of my crew."
"Yeth, thir," lisped Fred, stumbling forward along the alley to the
steps, down which he floundered.
"I will stand his watch, Mr. Winters," said the captain to me. "Go
below, if you like, Josie; go down, and forget your interest in that
young wretch. I am disappointed in him, and am through with him."
When I saw the look on the girl's face, I was glad that I had not
denounced him. I have seen that look in the face of a mother at the
coffin of her child.
I went to my room, and saw through Fred's open door that he had climbed
into his berth, and was already asleep. I still had an hour of my
watch below, and to steady my mind got out the "Epitome" and a pad of
paper, to figure out a few problems in navigation. And now my sick
roommate made a sound; his speech was returning, though it was not yet
articulate. Yet he made me understand by his grimaces and gestures that
he wanted the pad of paper. I understood at last, and gave him both pad
and pencil. He wrote, and I read, as follows:
"On the night of the fire he filled the empty fire extinguisher
with whiskey from a keg, and has tippled ever since."
I nodded my understanding of his message; and, going over to Fred's
room, lifted the fire extinguisher off its hook, and shook it. It was
empty. I hung it up, and went back.
"He's used it up," I said, to the dumb brute, who, caught foul in a
wrestling trick beyond his comprehension, hated his enemy more than I
did. He smiled and closed his eyes. He felt, no doubt, that his revenge
was nearly due.
I had the deck during the first watch that night, and heard no sounds
from below. No doubt, Fred slept soundly. At midnight, I called the
skipper, and went down. Fred was quiet, and my roommate asleep, so I
turned in, hoping for a few hours of sleep. But it was denied me. I
wakened in an hour, frenzied with fear of the _thing_ that was pursuing
me, and as consciousness came to me I heard Fred's mutterings. Then I
saw him, through the opened doors, rise from his berth, and approach
the empty fire extinguisher. He lifted the empty flask, put the tube
to his lips, then hung it up, and crept into his berth. His mutterings
became words, his words oaths and maledictions, which soon took on the
nature of screams and shrieks. I turned out, and examined him. He was
sitting up, waving his hands toward the fire extinguisher, hanging on
its hook near the door.
"What ails you?" I demanded. "What do you see now?"
"Oh, Jim, Jim!" he gasped. "Drive it away! See it! There on the bed!"