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London, Jack, 1876-1916

"The Mutiny of the Elsinore"


"You're an old stiff," gasped Mulligan Jacobs. He was flung. He
soared through the air with the might of the fling, and even as he
soared and fell through the darkness he reiterated:
"Old stiff! Old stiff !"
He fell among the men on Number Two hatch, and there were confusion
and movement below, and groans.
Mr. Pike paced up and down the narrow house and gritted his teeth.
Then he paused. He leaned his arms on the bridge-rail, rested his
head on his arms for a full minute, then groaned:
"Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, oh dear." That was all. Then he went
aft, slowly, dragging his feet along the bridge.

CHAPTER XXXIII

The days grow gray. The sun has lost its warmth, and each noon, at
meridian, it is lower in the northern sky. All the old stars have
long since gone, and it would seem the sun is following them. The
world--the only world I know--has been left behind far there to the
north, and the hill of the earth is between it and us. This sad and
solitary ocean, gray and cold, is the end of all things, the falling-
off place where all things cease.


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