By the World Forgot

dle into Woywod's breast. The big mate threw up his arms. He staggered back. The pistol went off harmlessly and dropped on the ta

istol until you get the double irons on him. Log a charge of mutiny an' murder against him. If he resists, you can

d Beekman by

oward," he added to the steward, who was as white as death and trembling like a weather br

d let life out of Woywod had let the passion out of Beekman. He st

Harnash--I--" a

had gingerly taken the other. Shoving the pistol close into Beekman's ribs, he ordered the three men on deck. A passin

ith the irons. Beekman was handcuffed and irons were put on his ankles. He w

ow him, sir?" a

d been partitioned off on one side of the ship abaft the forecastle for the boatswain. On the opposite s

e of men to help you shift aft, an' be quick about it. When he's safely locked in bring me the key. There's been mutiny an' murder aboard my ship," he continued, loudly, for the benefit of the watch. "This

e steward, who was completely under th

he log, to be signed by the steward and myself, in

le we're waitin' for Mr. Gersey to gi

you git him safe in the bo's'n's cabin. See that the door is

s,

no chances with such

; of cou

captain, "you heard

ice out of the darkness, a voice full of ugly threat and menace, wh

will take his place as mate of the ship. Mr. Gersey will co

another voice out of the da

this kind, and yet in the black night there was lit

the captain, handling his

no answer,

'll cut his heart out. An' if I hear any more such talk, I'll let

hem. The boatswain came aft, having stripped his cabin. The prisoner was finally locked therein and left to himself. Bread and water were handed to him sufficient to keep life in him and not much else. The ship was hove to and Woywod was buried the next morning with due ceremony, the captain himself reading the ser

deck at his feet, the white bone handle of the knife sticking out of his breast and shining in the light of the big hanging lamp against his blue shirt. There was a human life on his hands, calloused and hardened as they were. There was blood upon them. Had the blood been shed righteously? Had he been well advised to

etween them. He had sworn that the latter should not provoke him, but he had done so and now he was in peril of his life, grave peril. The presumption of guilt is always against the sailor in charges of mutiny. It would require the strongest evidence to establish his innocence. He knew of no witnesses, save the captain and the steward. The steward was o

knew enough of sailors to realize they would scatter as soon as they could get away from the ship. He could scarcely depend upon them. There was old Gersey, but what

drama his mind reverted to those final words of Woywod's. H

. Tell Ha

. The first two were cl

Harnas

ingly plied him with wine, but so had the others. Beekman was an abstemious, temperate chap. He drank occasionally, in a moderate way, but never to excess. It was Harnash who had

it. The business affairs of the firm were prosperous. At his partner's insistence an expert had gone over the books on his return from Hawaii. There was

Stephanie presented the same countenance? Could those two

ing on that cruise until those faltered words as he died. Could it be Woywod? It must. Was it merely chance that Beekman had fallen into the hands of Harnash's friend on the very night before his wedding, when his last companion had been Harnash himself? Now, Beekman was an intensely loyal man and he

r entertaining the suspicions. It was not possible, yet-- Could Stephanie herself be a party to it? That, too, was unthinkable. So it was that Harnash-- Yet those words! Well, if he could get out of this horrible s

eality, that, to this so