The answer he got was a grunt.  My mind and eyes were on the officers.  I started forward, saying to myself, “I must not lose my temper.”

CHAPTER XVIII

“Not so fast, my lad.  I think I should like to look you over.”

These were the words with which Captain Swope arrested my progress.  He had permitted me to almost reach the ladder leading to the main deck, before he hailed.  The cat and the mouse; aye, that was it!  He must play with his prey.  Such teasing gave him pleasure.

I stopped, of course, and turned, and faced him.  Never did Captain Swope remind me more of a cat than that instant, when I met his glittering, pitiless eyes, and saw his smiling, red-lipped mouth, and listened to his soft, purring voice.  I was his mouse, helpless, trapped.  God’s truth, I felt like one!

He looked me over slowly, from head to foot.  The mate walked around behind me, and I knew the attack would come from that direction.  Swope knew that I knew it; that is why he held my eyes to the front with his deliberate and insulting inspection.  The cat and the mouse—­he would enjoy my nervousness.

I think I disappointed him, for I tried hard to appear unconcerned.  So, finally, he spoke again.

“What is your name?”

“Jack S-hreve, sir,” I answered.

“Shreve?  Now, what signboard did you rob?  Shreve is a good name, too good for a foc’sle rat.  Did you come by it honestly?  Did you have a father by that name?  I dare say not.  A gutter product would not know his father, eh, my lad?”

There was no mistaking the deliberate intent of the insult, or its foul meaning.  Despite my efforts, I felt the blood in my cheeks, and my fingers clenched of their own accord.  I thought how white was Yankee Swope’s neck, and how near, and how easily I could reach out and choke the vile words in his throat.  I very nearly lost my temper—­and with it, my life, and, I think, the other two lives, which I actually valued above my own.

The thing which saved me was the glimpse of a cold, speculative gleam in my tormentor’s eyes.  It was the mere shadow of an expression, but it acted like cold water upon my hot thoughts.  I divined, suddenly, that something more than sport was behind the captain’s insults.  He wanted me to blow up in a great rage, and attack him, or the mate.  I suddenly knew this was so, and the danger of my losing my temper was past.

I lowered my eyes, afraid their expression would betray my knowledge, and said submissively, “Yes, sir, I guess so, sir.”

“I was told you had a long tongue, but you do not seem very glib this minute,” Captain Swope went on.  “You’ve taken a reef in it, eh, Shreve?”

I said, “Yes, sir.”

“But you forgot to take a reef in it awhile back, didn’t you?”

I knew he was referring to the shout that warned Newman.  I did not venture a reply.