“Hope there are some more huskies like these two,” said Lynch.

“Ja, day ban all able seamans,” declared the Swede.

“You’re a filthy liar!” I heard Lynch comment.  But further words I lost, for Newman and I went stumbling forward to the forecastle.

We dumped our bags upon the floor, and Newman lighted the lamp.  My knees gave way, and I sat down upon the bench that ran around beside the tiers of empty bunks.  Then, when the flickering light revealed my companion’s face, I felt another shock of surprise.

For Newman was sober again.  As soon as he was out of sight of the group on the after deck, he dropped his inebriety like a mantle.  The face I looked into was alert and hard set, and the eyes gleamed strangely as though the man were laboring under a strong, repressed excitement.  Newman wore an air of triumph, as though he had just accomplished a difficult victory.  My tongue had suddenly become very thick, but I managed to mumble a query.  “Say, matey, what’s the game?”

He regarded me sharply.  “What’s the matter with you, lad?” he exclaimed.  He leaned over, pressed up one of my eyelids, and looked into my eye.  Then he tilted the bottle he still carried, and wetted his laps with the liquor.  “That . . .  Swede!  He drugged this bottle!  Bound to get the blood money for you!”

I didn’t answer.  I couldn’t, for while Newman was speaking, a wonderful thing happened.  He suddenly dwindled in size until he was no larger than a manikin, going through the motion of drinking from a tiny bottle; while in contrast, his voice increased so tremendously in volume it broke upon my ears like a surf upon a beach.  I couldn’t grasp the miracle.

“. . . well, not enough to hurt . . . all right tomorrow . . .”  Newman boomed.  Then he picked me up in his arms and deposited me in a bunk.  He got a blanket out of my bag and spread it over me.  I found something very comical about this, though I couldn’t laugh as I wished.  One hard case tucking in another hard case, like a mother tucks in her child!

The last thing I saw, or thought I saw, ere oblivion overcrept me, was Newman’s manikin-sized figure stretching out in a manikin-sized bunk opposite.

CHAPTER V

My head ached, my tongue was thick and wood-tastey, but I awoke in full possession of my faculties.  Even in the brief instant between the awakening and the eye-opening, I sensed what was about.

The motion told me the ship was under way.  The noises that had probably aroused me, boomed commands, stormed curses, groans, sounds of blows, feet stamping—­all told me that the mates were turning to the crew.  I sat up and looked around.

It had been dark night, and the foc’sle empty, when Newman had tucked me in for my drugged siesta.  Now it was broad day, and a bright streak of sunlight streaming into the dirty hole through the open door showed men’s forms sprawled in the bunks about me.