Not a sailor stirred. There was not one that did not admire Harry¹’s promptness, which had saved Jack²’s life, and prevented the captain from becoming a murderer.

“Here, you two men, seize the boy, and carry him below!” exclaimed the captain, addressing Brown and Higgins, the two sailors nearest.

The two men looked at each other, moved a step forward, and then stopped.

“Is this mutiny?” roared the captain, with a bloodcurdling oath. “Am I master in my own ship or not?”

What might have been the issue is hard to tell, had not the Yankee passenger already referred to, Jonathan Stubbs, come forward and taken up the gauntlet.

“Look here, cap’n,” he commenced, in a drawling tone, “what’s all this fuss you’re kickin’ up? You’re kinder riled, ain’t you?”

“Who are you that dare to bandy words with me? Men, do you hear me? Put that boy in irons, or must I do it myself?”

“Look here, cap’n, let’s argy that matter a little,” said Stubbs. “What’s the boy to be put in irons for?”

“For grossly insulting me, and defying my authority.”

“He has prevented your committing murder, if that’s what you mean. You ought to thank him.”

“Take care, sir!” thundered the captain, “or I may put you in irons, also.”

“I reckon you might find a little opposition,” said the Yankee, quietly. “I’m a passenger on this vessel³, Captain Hill, and your authority doesn’t extend to me.”

“We’ll see about that, sir,” said the captain, and he grasped Stubbs by the collar.

Now, the Yankee was not a heavy man, but he was very strong and wiry, and, moreover, in his early days, like Abraham Lincoln, he had been the best wrestler⁴ in the Vermont village in which he was born. He was a very quiet, peaceable man, but he was accustomed to resent insult in an effective way. He wrenched⁵ himself free by a powerful effort; then, with a

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