“Right you are, Luke. Pitch into him,” cried David Bright who was fast drinking himself into a state of madness.
“Father,” whispered Billy, with an anxious look, “don’t you think you’ve had enough?”
The reply to this was a tremendous cuff on the ear which sent the poor boy staggering backwards, so that he nearly fell. Recovering himself he retired behind the Coper’s boat and tried to crush down the sobs that rose in his throat. He was to some extent successful, but a few tears that could not be restrained hopped over his sunburnt cheeks.
It was not pain, nor even the indignity, that drew forth those tears and choking sobs, but the thought that the father he was so fond of had dealt the blow.
Meanwhile Luke Trevor, who felt that matters had reached a dangerous point, rose and went to the place where the boat’s painter had been tied. David Bright was sitting close to the spot.
“Don’t you think it is time we were going, skipper?” he said, respectfully, as he laid his hand on the rope.
“No, I don’t,” replied the skipper, sharply. “Leave go that rope.”
Luke hesitated. Instantly the enraged skipper leaped up and struck him a blow on the chest which knocked him down. At the same moment, observing that Gunter looked on with a leer of drunken amusement, he transferred his wrath to him, flung the remains of the spirits he had been drinking in the man’s face, and made a rush at him. Fortunately Gunter, who had risen, staggered and fell, so that the skipper missed his aim and tumbled over him. In a moment Gunter had regained his feet and prepared for combat, but his adversary’s head had struck on the side of the vessel, and he lay stunned and helpless on the deck.
Luke, who had recovered almost immediately, now assisted Gunter and Billy to raise the prostrate man. It was not an easy matter to handle one whose frame was so heavy, but with the assistance of the owner of the Coper they managed it.
“It’s only a slight cut,” said Billy, looking anxiously round at Trevor.