round the throat. Keith anticipated the move by a second, and Moniz, boiling with rage, found himself staring into the barrel of a revolver.
"Keep your dirty paws off," Keith ordered sternly, "and if you attempt to pull a gun out I'll bore a hole in you."
"Don't be a silly ass," Chester said. "Give me that paper back. Hang it all, this is a private matter of business between Moniz and me."
"Well, I'm not reading the thing," Keith relied, thrusting the paper into his pocket. "You can sign it just as well on Tao Tao when you've got a clear head. If it's all right to-morrow will do as well as to-day. Come on down to the ketch. Let's get out of this."
Chester looked up at the big sailor defiantly, and then he wavered. It was a brief war of will power.
"Your sister is here, on the Kestrel. She wants to see you. Come on, there's a good chap," Keith went on, taking the other's arm pleasantly.
"’Scuse this interruption," Chester said, with an odd grimace at Moniz. "It's all right, old top. I'll come back and fix this thing up. Keith, I regard this as an unwant—unwant—unwarran'ble liberty."
"So do I. But I stand pat," Keith replied, pulling gently at the other's arm, and still keeping his revolver in evidence.
