"'Why, Sarréo,' I said, 'you mustn't talk like that, you've nearly cracked his skull as it is. Don't you go on that tack, or it'll be worse for you.'
"He nods again. 'I know. But I have been look for that man for more'n five year.'
"'Why, do you know him?'
"'Yes, I know him now. When I see him roll up his shirt-sleeve in the trade-room, an' I see some tattoo mark on his arm, I know him.'
"Of course I asked him what the supercargo had done to him, but he wouldn't tell me any more. So, telling one of the hands to give him his pipe and tobacco, I went aft again and told the skipper that there seemed to be an old grudge between the two men.
"'Like enough/ says the skipper. 'That fellow Warby is the two ends and bight of a howling blackguard. He was only appointed to this ship at the last moment, or else I would have bucked against his coming aboard. He's got a bad name.'
"Warby lay in his bunk for the rest of the day, but in the evening he came on deck and said to the skipper roughly—
"'What are you going to do with that damned nigger?'
"' Keep him in irons for a day or two, I suppose. What more can I do?'
"Warby looked at him for a moment, then he says, with a sneer, that in some ships the captain would have tied such a fellow up and given him six dozen.