Mr. Trunnell | Page 9

fracas during the first half hour in command
of the deck; but I saw there was little time to lose. There were no
belaying-pins handy, so the thing for me was to get in as close as
possible and get the fellow's knife.
As he came up the steps, I rushed for him and kicked out with all my
strength, when his face was level with my knees. The toe of my heavy
shoe caught him solidly in the neck, and he went over backward almost
in a complete somersault, landing with a crash upon the main deck just
outside the window of Mr. Trunnell's room. He was stunned by the fall,
and I hastened down to seize him before he could recover. Just as I
gained the main deck, however, he gave a snort and started to his feet.
Then he let out a yell like a madman and closed with me, my right hand
luckily reaching his wrist below the knife.
It was up and down, and all over the deck for a time, the men crowding
aft around us, but fearing to take a hand. The fellow had enormous
strength, and the way he made that knife hand jump and twist gave me
all I could do to keep fast to it. Soon I found I was losing ground, and
he noted the fact, exerting himself more and more as he found me
failing. Then it dawned upon me that I was in a bad fix, and I tried to
think quickly for some means to save myself. In another mad struggle
he would wrench himself clear, and his ugly look told me plainly how
much mercy I could expect. I gave one last despairing grip on his wrist
as he tore wildly about, and then I felt his arm slip clear of my fingers,
and I waited for the stroke with my left arm drawn up to stop its force
as far as possible. I could almost feel the sting of the steel in my tense
nerves, when something suddenly caught me around the middle and
pressed me with great force against my enemy. His face was almost
against mine, but his arms were pinioned to his sides, powerless, and
then I was aware that we both were encircled by the ape-like arms of

the mate, Mr. Trunnell. How the little fellow held on was a marvel. He
braced his short legs wide apart, and giving a hug that almost took the
breath out of me, bawled lustily for some man to pass a lashing.
Suddenly a man rushed aft and passed a line around the stranger, and I
saw that the young landlubber to whom, earlier in the morning, I had
been so harsh was a man to be depended on. The young fellow tied my
enemy up in short order, although the knots he used would not have
done any credit to a sailor. But I was more than thankful when I had a
chance to wring the long knife out of the murderous stranger's hand,
and I spoke out to the smooth-faced fellow. "You'll do, my boy, even if
you don't know a yard from a main-brace bumpkin. Pass a line around
his legs and stuff a swab into his mouth if he don't stop swearing."
"Steady," said Trunnell, "none of that," as the swab was being brought
up. "But, Captain Andrews, if you don't belay your tongue we'll have to
do something." And the little mate squared his shoulders, and gazed
calmly down upon the prostrate stranger who foamed at the mouth with
impotent fury.
"So," I said, "this is the ruffian who jumped his bail and is aboard here
on the sneak? I reckon we'll tack ship and stand back again to put him
where he belongs."
I was breathing heavily from the fight, and stood leaning against the
cabin to recover, while Mr. Trunnell and the fellow Jim, who had
helped tie the skipper up, appeared to be in doubt how to proceed. The
noise of the scuffle and our conversation had aroused the captain in the
cabin, and as I finished speaking he came to the break of the poop and
looked down on the main deck. I was aware of his hooked nose and
strange, glinting eyes almost before I turned, as he spoke. He placed his
foot upon the rail and gave a dry cough.
"I reckon there ain't any call to tack ship," he said slowly; "a pair of
irons'll do the rest. Jest clap them on him, hand and foot, Mr. Rolling,
and then rivet him to the deck away up forrads. If he don't stow that
bazoo of his, you might ram the end of a handspike in his mouth and
see if he'll bite."