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With a flush, the girl drew back, and then turning watched Theriere where he

stood ready to cut loose the sail at the proper instant. The vessel was now

opposite the cleft in the cliffs. Theriere had lashed a new sheet in position. Now

he cut the old one. The sail swung around until caught in position by the stout

line. The mucker threw the helm hard to starboard. The nose of the brigantine

swung quickly toward the rocks. The sail filled, and an instant later the ship was

dashing to what seemed her inevitable doom.

Skipper Simms, seeing what Theriere had done after it was too late to prevent it,

dashed madly across the deck toward his junior.

"You fool!" he shrieked. "You fool! What are you doing? Driving us straight for the

rocks--murdering the whole lot of us!" and with that he sprang upon the

Frenchman with maniacal fury, bearing him to the deck beneath him.

Barbara Harding saw the attack of the fear-demented man, but she was

powerless to prevent it. The mucker saw it too, and grinned--he hoped that it

would be a good fight; there was nothing that he enjoyed more. He was sorry that

he could not take a hand in it, but the wheel demanded all his attention now, so

that he was even forced to take his eyes from the combatants that he might rivet

them upon the narrow entrance to the cove toward which the Halfmoon was now

plowing her way at constantly increasing speed.

The other members of the ship's company, all unmindful of the battle that at

another time would have commanded their undivided attention, stood with eyes

glued upon the wild channel toward which the brigantine's nose was pointed.

They saw now what Skipper Simms had failed to see--the little cove beyond, and

the chance for safety that the bold stroke offered if it proved successful.

With steady muscles and giant sinews the mucker stood by the wheel--nursing

the erratic wreck as no one might have supposed it was in him to do. Behind him

Barbara Harding watched first Theriere and Simms, and then Byrne and the

swirling waters toward which he was heading the ship.

Even the strain of the moment did not prevent her from wondering at the strange

contradictions of the burly young ruffian who could at one moment show such

traits of cowardliness and the next rise so coolly to the highest pinnacles of

courage. As she watched him occasionally now she noted for the first time the

leonine contour of his head, and she was surprised to note that his features were

regular and fine, and then she recalled Billy Mallory and the cowardly kick that

she had seen delivered in the face of the unconscious Theriere--with a little

shudder of disgust she turned away from the man at the wheel.

The Mucker