He scowled. "Damn Williams, anyhow! His instructions were--but

never mind about that. Get rid of the whiskey."

Turner coming up the companionway at that moment, Vail left me. I

had understood him perfectly. It was common talk in the forecastle

that Turner was drinking hard, and that, in fact, the cruise had

been arranged by his family in the hope that, away from his clubs;

he would alter his habits--a fallacy, of course. Taken away from

his customary daily round, given idle days on a summer sea, and

aided by Williams, the butler, he was drinking his head off.

Early as it was, he was somewhat the worse for it that morning.

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He made directly for me. It was the first time he had noticed me,

although it was the third day out. He stood in front of me, his

red eyes flaming, and, although I am a tall man, he had an inch

perhaps the advantage of me.

"What's this about Williams?" he demanded furiously. "What do

you mean by a thing like that?"

"He was bullying me. I didn't intend to drop him."

The ship was rolling gently; he made a pass at me with a magazine

he carried, and almost lost his balance. The women had risen,

and were watching from the corner of the after house. I caught him

and steadied him until he could clutch a chair.

"You try any tricks like that again, and you'll go overboard," he

stormed. "Who are you, anyhow? Not one of our men?"

I saw the quick look between Vail and Mrs. Turner, and saw her come

forward. Mrs. Johns followed her, smiling.

"Marsh!" Mrs. Turner protested. "I told you about him--the man

who had been ill."

"Oh, another of your friends!" he sneered, and looked from me to

Vail with his ugly smile.

Vail went rather pale and threw up his head quickly. The next

moment Mrs. Johns had saved the situation with an irrelevant remark,

and the incident was over. They were playing bridge, not without

dispute, but at least without insult. But I had hard a glimpse

beneath the surface of that luxurious cruise, one of many such in

the next few days.

That was on Monday, the third day out. Up to that time Miss Lee

had not noticed me, except once, when she found me scrubbing the

deck, to comment on a corner that she thought might be cleaner, and

another time in the evening, when she and Vail sat in chairs until

late, when she had sent me below for a wrap. She looked past me

rather than at me, gave me her orders quietly but briefly, and did

not even take the trouble to ignore me. And yet, once or twice, I

had found her eyes fixed on me with a cool, half-amused expression,

as if she found something in my struggles to carry trays as if I

had been accustomed to them, or to handle a mop as a mop should be

handled and not like a hockey stick--something infinitely

entertaining and not a little absurd.




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