But dawn was nothing more than a graying of the sky and water, and the twilight of day only gave the storm greater strength. The Venture rolled and bucked and shuddered in the sea, plunging ahead a foot for every fathom up and down. Peg Mannering had wearied and Spar had sent her into his cabin. Soon the black of former acquaintance came on the bridge, overbearing and disdainful, holding on to the dodger. “Is the ship all right?” said Chacktar. Spar stared at the scornful face. “Yes, go back and tell them so.” “Remember, you saw Tom Perry kill those men. Otherwise, convict, back you go.” Spar stepped very close to the black. “The title is Captain, if you please.” Chacktar laughed. “Ho, ho, the convict feels his metal.” Spar tried to hold his temper in with but small success. Suddenly, at the sight of the disdainful black face, his control snapped. “Metal, hell! You’re going to feel something else!” He started for Chacktar, but the black dodged nimbly and scurried down the ladder.
