CHAPTER XII
THE BULL-BAITERS
McKinnon waited until he knew Captain Yandel had turned in from the bridge. Seven bells of the first watch had already sounded mournfully out of the gloom qf the dipping forecastle, and to wait longer would only add to the danger of the enterprise in hand. The wind had somewhat lessened, so that the seas on the Laminian's quarter were less thunderous than during the day, and comparative quietness reigned on the ship's upper deck.
McKinnon, as he stepped out and glanced towards the bridge, felt that this quietness was not without its touch of the ominous. Yet he quickly hooked back the cabin door and adjusted his helmetlike receiver. Then he deliberately pushed the call-button that summoned a steward from below. This done, he turned back to his operating-table, drew up his form-pad, and wrote a sentence or two on it, studiously knitting his brows as he decided on the name and
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