“Even t’ this day I don’t know what made me go. I knew better, o’ course, an’ I never did care much fer drink anyway. But that fellow could make me do anythin’ he liked, I believe, an’, so I went, like a silly goat as I was. I smelt somehow that all wasn’t right when I got in, for there was as tough a lookin’ crowd as ever I see sittin’ about, an’ half of ’em looked ready to begin on anybody they didn’t sorter just cotton to. But I had my drink, three fingers of aguardiente, an’ so did the two chaps as was with us, two Yanks they was. Just as I puts my glass down I sees Dick lookin’ at me curious, an’ in that moment I knew that he had sold me. I never want to feel like that again. The bottom seemed to have fell out of everything. I jumped up, knockin’ the big table over; I heard an’ awful crashin’ an’ bangin’ an’, then nothin’.
“When I came to agen I was bein’ hauled along a deck by the neck, an’ I was feelin’ wuss nor ever I had felt in my life. I heard somebody yell ‘up with ye, dirt; an’ loose that maintgallant s’l,’ an’ I started, the sailor in me, I s’pose. But as I got on the sheer pole I looked around, for my head was gettin’ clearer, and there, not more’n a mile away was the Mornin’ Star at anchor, an’ we flyin’ past her at the rate o’ knots before a fresh breeze under topsails fore and aft. Just one look was enough for me. I slued round and dived, comin’ up headin’ straight for the ole ship. And the skunk in charge o’ that hooker that I’d ben shanghaied into stood on his poop an’ took pot shots at me from a Winchester as long as he could see me. But he dassent heave to where he was ’n I played the ole islan’ game on him, boy, long swim under water, bob up an’ a guts full of air, then down agen. Why, I’d run the blockade of forty ships if only the water was rough enough.
“Presently the old man sees me, he’d ben disturbed by the noise o’ the shootin’, an’, as he afterwards told me, he ups with his glass an’ makes out who it was. An’ then he was that excited he couldn’t keep still; but he had too much savvy to lower a boat until the ship that I’d jumped from was outer gunshot. Then they come an’ picked me up. I was feelin’ real good, for that swim had put new life inter me. When I got aboard the ole man was that delighted t’ see me I thought he’d a cried, an’ I was some glad t’ get back. I told him all I knew, an’ he says, ‘Why that chum o’ yours is wuss an’ what even I thought him, an’ you know I never did like him. He got down inter my cabin that day somehow and stole about two hundred dollars in money an’ some bits o’ julery as I prized, an’ I hain’t heard nothin’ of him since.’
“I didn’t say nothin’, I couldn’t, but I reckoned that if ever I met Mr. Dick agen, no matter where or how, it’d be his last meetin’ with anybody.
“I went an’ had a good sleep an’ a feed, an’ that night as soon as it was dark I goes t’ the skipper an’ says I: ‘I’m goin’ ashore, sir, with your permission, but I don’t want no boat, I’ll swim.’ He knew me an’ he says, ‘Well, if you must you must. But I don’t want t’ lose ye, try an’ get back agen.’ An’ I says, ‘You bet I’ll be back before mornin’.’ So I puts my ole bowie in my belt, slips down over the side, an’ puts for the shore. It was only a couple o’ miles off, so I was as fresh as paint when I lands, an’ then I starts off on my search. I knew, of course, that my joker calc’lated on me bein’ a good many miles away by this time, so I didn’t dodge about, I went straight to the rum mill he’d lured me to. An’ when I shoved open the door, there he is, a settin’ with a big drink afore him, and Buck Murphy with two other boys o’ the same class sittin’ around with cards in their hands. They were playin’ bluff.
“I wasn’t: I made one jump at him like a cougar. I knew I could a had him out o’ the middle of a regiment of soldiers, an’ as I went I knocked the kerosine lamp over that was on the table so that the only light that there was came from the burnin’ ile lappin’ around the wooden shanty. I got him by the neck, with my left hand. With the other I pulls my knife an’ as I choked him I felt for anythin’ touchin’ me an’ cut at it. The flame burst up high an’ showed me the rest o’ the crowd clearin’, so I pulls up quickly an’ has a good look at him. I thought he was dead, but I makes sure an’ then has a peep round. An’ in the corner of the room I sees a big hole. Bein’ as clear in my mind as I am now I makes a breach for it, guessin’ what it was, drops through it an’ finds myself in the harbour which was all right.
“So I takes a little journey, lands and get my bearin’s on, then paddles off quietly to the ship feelin’ quite easy in my mind. I got aboard agen at midnight, and was very near shot by the mate who, seein’ me climb inboard in the dark, thought I was some pirate or another. I jollied him a bit about his shootin’, not much, because I ain’t big on the shoot myself, then turned in, tellin’ him I’d give the cuffer t’ the skipper in the mornin’.
“I was middlin’ tired, an’ I had to be called at two bells, an’ as soon as I come on deck the ole man says, ‘So you got back all right, Merritt?’ ‘Yes, sir,’ I says, ‘an’ I’ve squared the account. Mister Dick won’t sell any more men, his pleasant little game is stopped for a full due.’ ‘Why, you surely didn’t kill him, did you, Merritt?’ says he, holdin’ up both han’s as if he was scared like. ‘Well, if I didn’t,’ says I, ‘it’s a funny thing to me. But I don’t think there’s much doubt about it;’ an’ I went on to give him the story. Would you believe it, he looked at me as if I hurt his eyesight, an’ from that out I don’t think he really ever liked me. Some men is like that, ye know. They know you’ve done the right thing, yet they hate ye for doin’ it. But that didn’t trouble me any.”
All through the long recital C. B. had listened with mingled feelings of admiration and horror, and when Merritt had finished he held out his hand and said—