“The lug-bolt in the lee fore-riggin’ is busted. You had better take a look at it afore away goes the backstay,” said Davis.
“All right. Wait here till I get a pipe o’ tobacco, and we’ll look at it.”
Jim hurried forward. He looked over the rail and peered into the blackness alongside. The phosphorus flared in a ghostly manner as the water rolled lazily from the vessel’s side, but everything appeared all right.
Suddenly a gleaming bit of something shot upward. He started back quickly, and a hand holding a knife struck savagely at his chest. The blade ripped his shirt from neck to waist, but did not wound him. The next instant old Dan arose from the channels and climbed over the rail to the deck.
“The wrong man, ye murtherin’ villain,” growled Jim.
“So it was, messmate,” said Dan, coolly.
“What’s the row?” asked Tautline, coming up to where the men stood. He saw something was wrong, but had not seen Dan come over the side.
“That busted dead-eye,” answered Dan. “I was just lookin’ at it.”
“Well, get out before I put a couple of dead-eyes in your ugly figgerhead. Slant away!” And Dan slunk around the corner of the deck-house.
As the good weather held, the galley cat came out of hiding and sunned herself in the lee of the galley during the warm part of the day.