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 and ankles. And then he lay still with his face against the planks as if in a vast and overwhelming bitterness of despair.

It had been Cleggett's earlier thought to take the man alive, if possible, and turn him over to the authorities. But now that Loge was taken he burned with the wish for personal combat with him. He desired to be the agent of society, and put an end to Logan Black himself.

Cleggett, as he gazed at the fellow lying prone upon the deck, could not repress a murmur of dissatisfaction.

"We never fought it out," he said.

Whether Loge heard him or not, the same thought was evidently running is his mind. He lifted his head. A slow, malignant grin that showed his yellow canine teeth lifted his upper lip. He fixed his eyes on Cleggett with a cold deadliness of hatred and said:

"You are lucky."

Outwardly Cleggett remained calm, but inwardly he was shaken with an intensity of passion that matched Loge's own.

"Lucky?" he said quietly. "That is as may be. And if, as I infer, you desire a settlement of a more