“Deschaillon, get that medicine chest out of my bag!”
The Frenchman moved toward the bag indicated, when Madden remembered.
“Here, come back, every one of you!” he cried.
The mutineers flowed in again, entirely subdued now.
Madden was loosening what few clothes Smith wore. He twisted about, facing the crew.
“Some of you fellows stole my medicine chest,” he accused boldly. “I want it! The man who has it bring it here!”
The men stood very still, looking from one to the other uneasily.
“Listen, men,” repeated Leonard intensely, “I've got to have it—understand? I don't mind your stealing it. I won't say a word to you about that, but I'll manhandle the scoundrel that's keeping it now!”
There was a growled chorus of protests. Madden quivered at his impotence to put his hand on the thief in the crowd.
One of the navvies caught the expression on
