if he had died a court of law would have called it that. Murdock found himself in a queer hole, though, through my disappearing. Many a man has been hanged on less evidence than what there was against him. I don't wonder he was anxious to have his position cleared up."
There was a brief pause. Then:
"And so your name's Earle," said Chester.
"Yes—Keith Earle. But you'll see in a minute that I had good reason for not saying too much about it. Murdock was a brute—the worst kind of Yankee skipper. There wasn't a man on board who wouldn't have been delighted to hear he'd broken his neck. And for some reason he had his knife into me particularly, probably because I lost my temper the first day we were out of New York, and told him frankly what I thought of him. For many a month things grew worse and worse. He tried to bully me, and, as I dare say you know, if a skipper wants to make it awkward for his chief officer he has a good many opportunities.
"The night I left the ship he was down in the cabin with me, long after midnight, and a row started—just one of the endless series. This time it was something about the handling of the men, and I didn't agree with him. I'm willing to drive men to the limit of their endurance, if necessary for the safety of the ship, but he wasn't happy unless they were being plain bullied. He riled me for fair
