shoulders. As I turned, dripping, Jones, re-
lieved of the wheel, touched me on the arm.

"Go back to sleep, boy," he said kindly.
"We need you, and we're goin' to need you
more when we get ashore. You've been talkin'
in your sleep till you plumb scared me."

But I was wide awake by that time, and he
had had as little sleep as I had. I refused, and
we went forward together, Jones to get coffee,
which stood all night on the galley stove.

It was still dark. The dawn, even in the less
than four weeks we had been out, came per-
ceptibly later. At the port forward corner of
the after house, Jones stumbled over something,
and gave a sharp exclamation. The next mo-
ment he was on his knees, lighting a match.

Burns lay there on his face, unconscious, and
bleeding profusely from a cut on the back of his
head -- but not dead.

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