He picked up Bradish and threw him on the floor. When he turned he saw
the girl's white, agonized, frightened face at the crack of the saloon
door.
"Captain Downs!" she shrieked, "that negro is killing him. He's killing
Ralph!"
The victor turned his back on her and lurched around the table on his
way out. He stroked blood from his face with his palm, and was glad that
she had not recognized him; and yet, her failure to do so, even though
he was such a pitiable figure of the man she had known, was one more
slash of the whip of anguish across his raw soul. For a moment they had
stood there, face to face, and only blank unrecognition greeted him; it
made this horrible contretemps seem all the more unreal.
Mayo did not pause to listen to the ravings of Captain Downs, who
came thrusting past her. Dizzy, bleeding, half blind, he rushed up the
forward companionway and went into the black night on deck.
The mate was bawling for all hands to shorten sail, and Mayo took his
place with the toilers, who were manning sheets and downhauls.