the haggard, unshaven face who had joined the captain.
"I am as much a pilot as anybody," was McCoy's answer. "We are all pilots here, Captain, and I know every inch of these waters."
But the captain was impatient.
"What I want is some of the authorities. I want to talk with them, and blame quick."
"Then I'll do just as well."
Again that insidious suggestion of peace, and his ship a raging furnace beneath his feet! The captain's eyebrows lifted impatiently and nervously, and his fist clenched as if he were about to strike a blow with it.
"Who in hell are you?" he demanded.
"I am the chief magistrate," was the reply in a voice that was still the softest and gentlest imaginable.
The tall, heavy-shouldered man broke out in a harsh laugh that was partly amusement, but mostly hysterical. Both he and the captain regarded McCoy with incredulity and amazement. That this barefooted beachcomber
