to his disastrous climax; his sinewy arms were fouled with it, splashes of it flecked his ruddy-brown face. His countenance was frank and handsome, his eyes were quick and blue, a certain merriness in them that seemed the expression of the man's unconquerable hope. His fair hair was long, a waviness in it as irrepressible as the soul that looked out of his eyes. It was tossed and disordered; sweat glistened on his face.
Captain Welliver straightened from his threatening posture, triumph for his small victory glistening in his eyes.
"In your case I'll make it twenty dollars," he announced. "Now, get back to work!"
The other sailors who had brought up the box, joined by the four who had been flinging hides from the wagon, moved dispiritedly down the hill.
"I'll not go back to work until you modify that unreasonable fine, Captain Welliver," said the sailor whose unfortunate slip seemed in a way to cost him so dearly. "No oar that ever was turned is worth twenty dollars."
"Git back to work!" the captain ordered, whirling upon the insubordinate man.
"Not as long as that unjust fine stands against me, sir. I'm willing for you to deduct the cost price of the oar from my wages, although it wasn't my fault that it got broken."
"You'll go to work this minute, or by the Almighty! I'll knock your two eyes into one!"
"When you do me as much justice as your small
