needed all his brain energy to think of how he should kill McTee.

It was this hungry desire which sustained him during the days which
followed. The rest of the crew began to sense the mighty emotion which
consumed Harrigan. When they saw both him and McTee on the deck, their
eyes traveled from one to the other making comparisons, for they felt
that these men would one day meet hand to hand. They could not stay
apart any more than the iron can keep from the magnet.

Finally Harrigan knew that they were nearing the end of their long
journey. The port was only a few days distant, for they were far in the
south seas and they began to pass islands, and sometimes caught sight
of green patches of water. Those were the coral reefs, the terror of
all navigators, for they grow and change from year to year. To a
light-draught ship like the _Mary Rogers_ these seas were comparatively
safe, but not altogether. Even small sailing craft had come to grief in
those regions.

Yet the islands, the reefs, the keen sun, the soft winds, the singing
of the sailors, all these things came dimly to Harrigan, for he knew
that his powers of resistance were almost worn away. His face was a
mask of tragedy, and his body was as lean as a starved wolf in winter.
His will to live, his will to hate, alone remained.

Each morning it was harder for him to leave the bridge without speaking
those words to the captain. He rehearsed them every day and vowed they
would never pass his lips. And every day he knew that his vow was
weaker. When he was about to give in, he chanced to see McTee and Kate
Malone laughing together on the promenade.