Nobody knew this better than Jermin, and so he contented himself with
looking down the scuttle and storming. At last Beauty made some cool
observation which set him half wild.
"Tumble on deck," he then bellowed - "come, up with you, or I'll jump
down and make you." The carpenter begged him to go about it at once.
No sooner said than done: prudence forgotten, Jermin was there; and by
a sort of instinct, had his man by the throat before he could well
see him. One of the men now made a rush at him, but the rest dragged
him off, protesting that they should have fair play.
"Now come on deck," shouted the mate, struggling like a good fellow to
hold the carpenter fast.
"Take me there," was the dogged answer, and Beauty wriggled about in
the nervous grasp of the other like a couple of yards of
boa-constrictor.
His assailant now undertook to make him up into a compact bundle, the
more easily to transport him. While thus occupied, Beauty got his
arms loose, and threw him over backward. But Jermin quickly recovered
himself, when for a time they had it every way, dragging each other
about, bumping their heads against the projecting beams, and
returning each other's blows the first favourable opportunity that
offered.
