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"Fitzgibbon! Giller! Hackey!" I called in turn, and was obeyed. "Fay!" I called twice, ere the response came. Isaac Chantz stood alone, and Bombini now showed eagerness. "Chantz!" I said; "don't you think it would be healthier to go over to the fife-rail and be good?" He debated the matter not many seconds, resheathed his knife, and complied. The tang of power!
In the meantime, what Rhine says goes. Get that, and get it straight. I am behind Rhine until the police come on board. Bombini! do whatever Rhine tells you. I'll shoot the man who tries to stop you. Deacon! Stand away from Chantz. Go over to the fife-rail." All hands knew the stream of lead my automatic rifle could throw, and Arthur Deacon knew it. He hesitated barely a moment, then obeyed.
I was minded to let literature get the better of me and read the rascals a lecture; but thank heaven I had sufficient proportion and balance to refrain. "Rhine!" I said. He turned his corroded face up to me and blinked in an effort to see. "As long as Chantz takes your orders, leave him alone. We'll need every hand to work the ship in.
He motioned to the Jew, Isaac Chantz, who had been wounded earlier in the voyage by O'Sullivan, and Chantz led the way to the starboard chart-house door. While this was going on, all in flashing fractions of seconds, Bert Rhine was cautiously inspecting the lazarette through the open booby- hatch. Isaac Chantz jerked open the chart-house door, which swung outward. Things did happen so swiftly!
Arthur Deacon was almost in collapse, and he and Chantz, the Jew, shamelessly clung to each other for support. Bob, the fat and overgrown youth, was sobbing, while the other youth, Bony the Splinter, was shivering and chattering his teeth.
Bert Rhine lurched angrily toward the sound of the Jew's voice. Chantz's partisans drew closer to him. "Jail you," I answered from above. "And it shall go as hard with all of you as I can make it hard." "Maybe you will an' maybe you won't," the Jew retorted. "Shut up, Chantz!" Bert Rhine commanded. "And you'll get yours, you wop," Chantz snarled, "if I have to do it myself."
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