There was no longer any doubt!  The lamp was beating back and forth like the clapper of a great bell.  Where was he?  Billy sought a window.  He found some little round, glass-covered holes near the low ceiling at one side of the room.  It was only at the greatest risk to life and limb that he managed to crawl on all fours to one of them.

As he straightened up and glanced through he was appalled at the sight that met his eyes.  As far as he could see there was naught but a tumbling waste of water.  And then the truth of what had happened to him broke upon his understanding.

“An’ I was goin’ to roll that guy!” he muttered in helpless bewilderment.  “I was a-goin’ to roll him, and now look here wot he has done to me!”

At that moment a light appeared above as the hatch was raised, and Billy saw the feet and legs of a large man descending the ladder from above.  When the newcomer reached the floor and turned to look about his eyes met Billy’s, and Billy saw that it was his host of the previous evening.

“Well, my hearty, how goes it?” asked the stranger.

“You pulled it off pretty slick,” said Billy.

“What do you mean?” asked the other with a frown.

“Come off,” said Billy; “you know what I mean.”

“Look here,” replied the other coldly.  “Don’t you forget that I’m mate of this ship, an’ that you want to speak respectful to me if you ain’t lookin’ for trouble.  My name’s Mr. Ward, an’ when you speak to me say sir.  Understand?”

Billy scratched his head, and blinked his eyes.  He never before had been spoken to in any such fashion—­at least not since he had put on the avoirdupois of manhood.  His head ached horribly and he was sick to his stomach—­frightfully sick.  His mind was more upon his physical suffering than upon what the mate was saying, so that quite a perceptible interval of time elapsed before the true dimensions of the affront to his dignity commenced to percolate into the befogged and pain-racked convolutions of his brain.

The mate thought that his bluster had bluffed the new hand.  That was what he had come below to accomplish.  Experience had taught him that an early lesson in discipline and subordination saved unpleasant encounters in the future.  He also had learned that there is no better time to put a bluff of this nature across than when the victim is suffering from the after-effects of whiskey and a drug—­mentality, vitality, and courage are then at their lowest ebb.  A brave man often is reduced to the pitiful condition of a yellow dog when nausea sits astride his stomach.