At that instant time was called by Martin, and we went at it again.
There is no use going into the details of the finish, but it will suffice to say that the American eagle which was tattooed upon my breast had no reason to blush. I was somewhat aroused by the unfriendly tone of the Englishman above, and I jolted Bill rather roughly upon the point of his jaw. It was not viciously done, but at the same time I put a bit of weight into my hand, and my heavily limbed antagonist dropped to the floor. Anderson tried to get him to start again, but he reeled as he reached his knees and swayed hopelessly for a space. The motion of the ship seemed to bother him also.
“My money! My money!” cried the younger man above. “The Yank has him going.”
It was more than that, and I felt sorry for Bill. He was out of it, and a heavy jolt might mean something serious. I went to my bunk and began to put my clothes on, while Martin cried for me to wait. “I’ll give you a turn another time,” I said, shortly.
“No, no, he isn’t done for yet,” they all cried, but I knew better.
Poor Bill! He turned his face up, and I saw his vacant eyes trying to grasp the situation. He was game enough, and struggled to rise, swaying to and fro like an unstayed topmast. The deck would slant away from him and his hand would reach out for support. Then the barque heaved a bit to leeward, and he staggered, swayed, and then pitched forward prone and lay still.
“Pour water over him, mon, pour water over him,” cried Martin, and Anderson sluiced the allowance in the forecastle over the fallen man’s head. Then they raised him and put him in his pew, and, by the time I had finished dressing, he was sitting up regarding me curiously.
“Now, William,” said I, “just as soon as you feel better, you take hold of these mess things and get them cleaned up and shipshape. Jorg there can lend you a hand this morning, and, if he doesn’t bear a hand, I’ll see what kind of skin they raise in Finland.” And I nodded to the bearded fellow who had chosen to question me regarding Watkins. Then I settled myself for a nap, and tied a rag over my bruised side-light, while I smoked and listened to the discussions around me.
The younger man who sat in the companion, and who had backed me, now arose and stood twisting the ends of his little blond moustache while he looked down. His face was tanned a ruddy brown, and I was not inclined to find fault with his looks. His companion cursed his luck and Bill, his face almost purple with anger and his black beard fairly bristling.
“I’ll own I’ve lost, Sir John, but may the curse of the vikings strike that lubber I backed,” he growled. “One wouldn’t think there was so little in such a big fellow. I thought Hawkson had a picked crew, but, if that fellow Bill’s the best, they’re a poor lot.”