“Your wound not yet dressed?” demanded he.

“No, sir, not yet.”

“And why not, pray?”

“He’s simply refused all attention, whatever!” put in the doctor.

“I have a reason, sir,” Alden proffered.

“No reason can overrule my orders!” the Master exclaimed.  “I commanded you to report to Dr. Lombardo for treatment.”

“Nevertheless, sir, I refuse—­”

“Insubordination will not be condoned, sir!”

“My reason is valid.  When you have heard it, you will understand.”

“State your reason, sir!”

“I decline—­here.”

For a long moment the eyes of the Master met those of Captain Alden, that strangely peered out at him through the eyeholes of the pink, celluloid mask.  Bohannan and the doctor stood by, curiously observing this conflict of two wills.  Silence came, save for the droning purr of the engines, the buffeting gusts of wind along the fuselage, the slight trembling of the gigantic fabric as it hurled itself eastward through the high air of night.

“This is inexcusable,” said the Master, crisply.  “I give you one last chance.  Either permit treatment, or consider yourself under arrest.”

“Before you proceed to such lengths,” the captain replied, “I ask one favor of you.”

“What favor?”

“Two minutes alone with you, sir.”

“Come with me!”

The Master turned and left the sick-bay.  Alden rose, weakly enough, and followed him.  As the door opened and closed again, the engines hummed louder, then sank again to their dull murmur.  Bohannan remained with the doctor.

“Well, faith, can you beat that?” exclaimed the major.  “There’s an Ethiopian in the woodpile, sure enough.  Something strange, here, I’m thinking!  Something damned strange here!”

“Is there anything here that isn’t?” asked Lombardo, with an odd laugh, as he turned back to the cot where lay the dying New Zealander.

Alone in his cabin with Captain Alden, the Master faced the insubordinate member of his crew with an expression of hard implacability.  The captain stood there determinedly confronting him.  His right hand held to the table for support.  His left sleeve was sodden with blood; the left arm, thrust into the breast of his coat, was obviously numbed, paralyzed.

“Well, sir, what have you to say for yourself?” coldly demanded the Master.

“I repeat that I cannot—­and will not—­submit myself to any medical attention from any member of this expedition.”

“This is dangerous ground you’re treading!” the Master exclaimed.  His voice had deepened, grown ominous.  “You understood perfectly well the conditions of the undertaking—­unquestioning obedience to my orders, with life-and-death powers in my hands, to punish insubordination.”

“I understand all that, sir,” answered the captain.  “I understand it now.  Nevertheless, I repeat my refusal to obey.”