"Arctic pines," Stirling said. "It's No Man's Land on this side of the world. You stand watch with that Remington and I'll go look that sailor over. He must be hungry."
Stirling moved toward the curtain as the girl turned away from the open porthole and stepped to the table where the rifle lay. She lifted it, and frowned in perplexity as her fingers toyed with the trigger guard and cocking mechanism.
Suddenly she wheeled and laid down the rifle. "I couldn't shoot anybody," she said, staring across the cabin. "Nobody is going to bother us, now."
"I'm not so sure, Miss Marr. There's a time coming when the revolutionists will be in distress. Then there's Slim to reckon with. He might escape while I'm sleeping. You know I haven't slept for days—just a nap now and then in the crow's-nest and the shaft alley."
Stirling hurried to the dock rat's cabin and pressed open the door after inserting the key in the lock. Slim sat up and twisted his body.
"Nice way you've left me," he said, bitterly.
Stirling examined the bonds and smiled grimly, but he did not answer the sailor. He glanced about the cabin, saw that the porthole was fastened securely, then hurried back to the girl.
"Please get biscuits and water," he said. "That sailor is doing fine. If he doesn't keep it up I'll turn him over to the revolutionists."
"He was all right until after uncle died," Helen said. "Then he started drinking and saying things to me. I wasn't afraid of him, only——"
"Only," interrupted Stirling, "you should have kept that little revolver. I appreciated it, but you needed it worse than I did. Here it is."