"A gunman, eh? All right. Let's see if he'll shoot," said the son, walking
deliberately toward Dodge.

"No, Dodge!" Cleigh called out as the Texan, raised the revolver. "You may
go."

Dodge, a good deal astonished, backed out. Once more father and son stared
at each other.

"Better call it off," advised the son. "You can't hold Miss Norman--and I
can make a serious charge. Bring her at once, or I'll go for her. And the
Lord help the woodwork if I start!"

But even as he uttered the threat Dennison heard a sound behind. He
turned, but not soon enough. In a second he was on the floor, three husky
seamen mauling him. They had their hands full for a while, but in the end
they conquered.

"What next, sir?" asked one of the sailors, breathing hard.

"Tie him up and lock him in Cabin Two."

The first order was executed. After Dennison's arms and ankles were bound
the men stood him up.

"Are you really my father?"

Cleigh returned to his cards and shuffled them for a new deal.

"Don't untie him. He might walk through the partition. He will have the
freedom of the deck when we are out of the delta."

Dennison was thereupon carried to Cabin Two, and deposited upon the
stationary bed. He began to laugh. There was a sardonic note in this
laughter, like that which greets you when you recount some incredible
tale. His old cabin!