"Captain, that man is a dirty liar!" he cried hotly. "He and his
precious cronies tried to rob me, out there. I was coming into town
from across the bay; I had hired a Spaniard to bring me across in a
small sailboat, and the tide carried us down too far, so I told him to
land and I'd walk back to town, rather than tack back. And these men
met me, and tried to rob me! This man," he accused excitedly, pointing
a rageful finger at Swift, "was going to stab me in the throat when
he saw I resisted. I was fighting the three, and they were getting
the best of me. I never owned a gun, and I just had my fists. The two
others had grabbed me, and this man Swift pulled a knife. I remember
one of them saying: 'Don't shoot--it'll bring the whole town out!'
And just as this one raised his knife to drive it into my throat--they
were bending me backwards, the other two--I heard a shot, and this one
dropped his knife and gave a yell. There were two other shots, and
the two who were holding me dropped. This one ran off. Then--" The boy
turned and looked down at Jack, smoking his cigarette and trying to
read what lay behind the stolid stare of the twelve men who sat in
a solemn row on the bunks opposite him. "This young man--" His lips
trembled, and he stopped, to bite them into a more manlike firmness.
"Gentlemen, do what you like with me, but you've got to let this man
go! He's the coolest, bravest man I ever saw! He saved my life.
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