"Riley," said I, "you beat this man, now you must bandage him up and take care of him."
"Ah, sure, sir; it's murdher you'd be after wantin' me to do and it's bandage him up you want. Heavenly Father, with me new tin plate all spoiled, what in the divil am I going to ate off of?"
"Eight bells!" sang out the man on the lookout. It was Swanson's lookout watch, and the Finn's wheel.
"Riley, you will have to keep the Swede's lookout this watch. He is dazed and stupid from the beating you gave him. There is danger of him walking overboard."
Swanson crawled over to the bench as if in terrible pain, muttering: "I will get this Irish dog, and when I do, look out, I will kill him."
The other members of the watch below were too busy dressing to pay much attention to the fight, but one could see that they were proud of Riley's work.
"Ha, ha, an' it's kill me you would, me fine bucko, an' sure you might if I had no eyes in me head. You dirty baste. Let me finish him, sir."
"Riley," said I, severely, "get up on deck, and relieve the man on the lookout, or I will place you both in irons."
Riley went on duty very reluctantly, saying, "Begorra, sir, and it's sorry you'll be for not letting me finish him."
"Swanson," I said, "you will be all right in the morning. You have a few bad bumps on your head, but a hard and tough man like you should not mind that."