“Wot’s dat?” he growled.  “Don’t get gay wit me, or I’ll black dem lamps fer yeh,” and he raised a heavy fist as though to strike her.

The mucker had looked to see the girl cower before his threatened blow—­that would have been ample atonement for her insult, and would have appealed greatly to his Kelly-gang sense of humor.  Many a time had he threatened women thus, for the keen enjoyment of hearing their screams of fright and seeing them turn and flee in terror.  When they had held their ground and opposed him, as some upon the West Side had felt sufficiently muscular to do, the mucker had not hesitated to “hand them one.”  Thus only might a man uphold his reputation for bravery in the vicinage of Grand Avenue.

He had looked to see this girl of the effete and effeminate upper class swoon with terror before him; but to his intense astonishment she but stood erect and brave before him, her head high held, her eyes cold and level and unafraid.  And then she spoke again.

“Coward!” she said.

Billy almost struck her; but something held his hand.  What, he could not understand.  Could it be that he feared this slender girl?  And at this juncture, when the threat of his attitude was the most apparent, Second Officer Theriere came upon the scene.  At a glance he took in the situation, and with a bound had sprung between Billy Byrne and Barbara Harding.

CHAPTER VI

THE MUCKER AT BAY

“What has this man said to you, Miss Harding?” cried Theriere.  “Has he offered you harm?”

“I do not think that he would have dared strike me,” replied the girl, “though he threatened to do so.  He is the coward who murdered poor Mr. Mallory upon the Lotus.  He might stoop to anything after that.”

Theriere turned angrily upon Byrne.

“Go below!” he shouted.  “I’ll attend to you later.  If Miss Harding were not here I’d thrash you within an inch of your life now.  And if I ever hear of your speaking to her again, or offering her the slightest indignity I’ll put a bullet through you so quick you won’t know what has struck you.”

“T’ell yeh will!” sneered Billy Byrne.  “I got your number, yeh big stiff; an’ yeh better not get gay wit me.  Dey ain’t no guy on board dis man’s ship dat can hand Billy Byrne dat kin’ o’ guff an’ get away with it—­see?” and before Theriere knew what had happened a heavy fist had caught him upon the point of the chin and lifted him clear off the deck to drop him unconscious at Miss Harding’s feet.

“Yeh see wot happens to guys dat get gay wit me?” said the mucker to the girl, and then stooping over the prostrate form of the mate Billy Byrne withdrew a huge revolver from Theriere’s hip pocket.

“I guess I’ll need dis gat in my business purty soon,” he remarked.

Then he planted a vicious kick in the face of the unconscious man and went his way to the forecastle.