the active man who clung so tenaciously to him. They had struggled now so far aft that another step would have brought them in contact with the man at the wheel; but Gunson gave himself a wrench, swung round, and as he reversed his position the big Englishman forced him a little backward, bearing right over him as it seemed to me; while the next moment, to my intense astonishment, I saw Gunson now lift the great fellow from the deck and literally throw him over his shoulder, to come down on the planks with quite a crash. There was a curious cry of astonishment from the group of spectators, in the midst of which the second man stepped to his companion’s side.
“Get up, my lad,” he cried. “Did he play foul?”
But there was no reply. The great fellow lay on the deck as if dead, and when his companion raised his head it went heavily down again.
“Here, I can’t stand this,” roared the fallen man’s companion. “You played foul—you played foul;” and he rushed at Gunson and seized him, the latter only just having time to secure a good grip of the attacking party.
There was a fresh murmur of excitement, followed by a roar, as, apparently without effort, Gunson threw his new opponent upon his back.
“Was that foul?” cried Gunson, as he stood over him; but the man made no answer. He only got up slowly.
“Here, I want to help my mate,” he said surlily; and there was a burst of laughter, for the first fall had taken all desire out of him to try another.
By this time the big fellow—Gully—gave signs of returning consciousness, and sat up slowly to look about him, gently stroking his head, and accepting the offer of a couple of hands as he rose to his legs, and suffered himself to be led forward, while I turned my eyes now to where Gunson was putting on his jacket.
“Are you hurt?” I said.