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London, Jack, 1876-1916

"The Mutiny of the Elsinore"

Wada described the
situation. The tiny room, made of steel, was air-tight when the
steel door was closed. And Nancy insisted on keeping the door
closed. As a result Wada, in the upper bunk, had stifled. He told
me that the air had got so bad that the flame of the lamp, no matter
how high it was turned, guttered down and all but refused to burn.
Nancy snored beautifully through it all, while he had been unable to
close his eyes.
"He is not clean," quoth Wada. "He is a pig. No more will I sleep
in that place."
On the poop I found the Elsinore, with many of her sails furled,
slashing along through a troubled sea under an overcast sky. Also I
found Mr. Mellaire marching up and down, just as I had left him hours
before, and it took quite a distinct effort for me to realize that he
had had the watch off between four and eight. Even then, he told me,
he had slept from four until half-past seven.
"That is one thing, Mr. Pathurst, I always sleep like a baby . . .
which means a good conscience, sir, yes, a good conscience.


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