him in irons rather than risk his escape.

"Harrigan," said McTee suddenly. "Don't keep it up. You're bound to
break. Speak those words now that I told you to say and you're a free
man."

Harrigan looked up and the words formed at the base of his tongue.
Harrigan looked down and saw his crimson hands. The words fell back
like dust on his heart.

"Take you for my master an' swear to forget what you've done?" he said,
and his voice was hardly more than a whisper. "McTee, if I promised you
that I'd perjure blacker 'n hell an' kill you someday when your back
was turned. As it is, I'll kill you while we're standin' face to face."

McTee laughed, low, deep, and his eyes were half closed as if he heard
pleasant music. Harrigan grinned up at him.

"I'll kill you with my bare hands. There's no gun or knife could do
justice to what's inside of me."

His head tilted back and his whisper went thick like that of a
drunkard: "Ah-h, McTee, look at the hands, look at the hands! They're
red now for a sign av the blood av ye that'll someday be on 'em!"

And he picked up his bucket and brush and went down the deck. The laugh
of McTee followed him.

Having framed the wish in words, it was never absent from Harrigan's
mind now. It made that day easier for him. He stopped singing. He