Beta Book

Silently Bill Wrenn
plunged in with a smash! smash! smash! like a murderous savage,
using every grain of his strength.
Let us turn from the lamentable luck of Pete. He had now got the
idea that his supposed victim could really fight. Dismayed, shocked,
disgusted, he stumbled and sought to flee, and was sent flat.
This time it was the great little Bill who had to be dragged
off. McGarver held him, kicking and yammering, his mild
mustache bristling like a battling cat's, till the next round,
when Pete was knocked out by a clumsy whirlwind of fists.
He lay on the deck, with Bill standing over him and demanding,
"What's my name, _heh?_"
"I t'ink it's Bill now, all right, Wrennie, old hoss--Bill, old
hoss," groaned Pete.
He was permitted to sneak off into oblivion.
Bill Wrenn went below. In the dark passage by the fidley he
fell to tremorous weeping. But the brackish hydrant water that
stopped his nose-bleed saved him from hysterics. He climbed to
the top deck, and now he could again see his brother pilgrim,
the moon.


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