It was the red-headed Herc released from his cell ahead of time by the captain's commutation of sentence.
Like a steel spring suddenly released, Ned's body curved upward, and the next instant the wily Kennell's body was in his close embrace.
This time Ned had caught him where all his Oriental tricks were of no avail.
Back and back he bent Kennell till, with a great gasp, the bluejacket crashed down to the deck, his head striking with a heavy thud.
"Downed him!" shouted old Tom, capering.
"The kid wins!" yelled the delighted jackies.
Kennell, dazed and astounded at his sudden loss of the match he had made sure was his, got clumsily to his feet.
"Shake hands," said Ned simply, extending his palm. "I don't like you, Kennell, but I think you are the cleverest wrestler I have ever met."
With a scowl of fury and a half-articulated cry of rage, Kennell dashed the outstretched hand from him and hastened away from the jeering cries of his shipmates, with whom, as has been said, he was by no means popular.
"Well, if he doesn't care to be friends," remarked Ned, as the jackies, led by Herc, crowded around him and shook his hand warmly, "he doesn't have to. I suppose we shall have to take the consequences."