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those papers contained, I may be speaking the truth.”
    “There is that, of course,” Cheap nodded amiably, “and then it will be doubly unfortunate for you. Come, come, Major. All the Main knows that you who are sent to officer the levies here are men without any hope of advancement or profit at home. Why cling to that coat which has brought you nothing in the past? For a man with his wits about him there is a fortune to be gathered onthe Main—and you seem no cabbage head!”
    “For that compliment, thank you. But though my coat is old and, as you have remarked, somewhat threadbare,it has served me well and I have no wish to lay it aside—”
    “Your wishes have but small weight here, Major!”
    Cheap motioned and Cocklyn went down, one blow from Creagh's fist sending him sprawling.
    “Peg him out on the hatch,” the Captain ordered. “I'll warrant he'll find his tongue quick enough when the sun gets to him. And have that coat off him!”
    Once spread-eagled on the hatch grating, a bucket of salt water brought the Major to groaning consciousness and Cheap's smile must have been the first thing he saw clearly.
    “You have mayhap been long enough in our pleasant climate, Major, to know the strength of the sunlight, especially in the full heat of the day. But if you have not, you will learn it now. If you have any wish for water, my boy here will be most willing to ease your thirst. But, since our supply is limited, you needs must—being in the manner of speaking a stowaway—be satisfied with that from the sea. And should you at any time wish to continue our conversation concerning your mission—on a plane more satisfying to both of us—you need not hesitate to disturb me—I shall be entirely at your service.”
    “That”—the Major drew deep breaths between his words—"is most obliging of you. But I do not think that you need worry about being disturbed—”
    “Mayhap not this hour, or in the next, but the day is a long one, my friend. And I have all the time in the world.”
    “That I would not be too sure of,” returned Cocklyn and closed his eyes with the air of one who wished to conclude an annoying interview.

    “You know your orders.” Cheap turned to Scarface. “Sit you here and stir not until this scum of a redcoat finds his tongue or is broiled past the using of it.”
    Scarface wet dry lips. Never before had Cheap set him such a task—such nastiness had been left to Creagh who delighted in it and the boy had kept as far as possible from the scene of the sport. Why had Cheap not left this captive to the tender mercies of the boatswain? Unless, knowing Creagh well and wishing to preserve some life and reason within Cocklyn's body, he had deliberately chosen as guard the one member of the crew he knew had no taste for beastliness.”
    What was Cheap's game? For the Captain did nothing without good cause. Why—?
    His head snapped back and he staggered, caught his balance and still stood, but with a brain which whirled within his skull for one sick instant. Then he blinked the dizziness from his eyes and felt across his chin and cheek the burn of the blow Cheap had given him almost carelessly.
    “Dream not on this guard, wry-face, or I'll have the skin off the bones in that stiff back of yours.”
    “Best leave th’ redcoat t’ me, Cap'n. I'll ‘ave ‘im a-talkin'!” Creagh stood there, a sort of red eagerness in his small eyes, his furry paws flexing.
    Cheap shook his head. “Not this time, Creagh. Let this brat earn his keep, he has grown squeamish of late. Not that you may not keep an eye to the both of them now and then, mind you—”
    “Aye, aye, Cap'n!”
    So Scarface squatted down by the edge of the hatch,knowing that Creagh's pig-eyes, wherever his body might be on deck, would be upon them. As for Cheap, he went unhurriedly below to sample a bottle from the few the sloop had yielded.
    The sun climbed and Scarface, feeling its bite on his own shoulders, could guess what it