Then he told briefly the tale of the tyranny aboard the _Mary Rogers_, now apparently to be repeated.
"So I thought," he concluded, "that it was to be the old story over again--look at my hands!" He held them out.

The palms were still red and deeply scarred.

Campbell said nothing, but his jaw set savagely.
"I thought it was to be this all over again," went on Harrigan, "till I met you, chief.

But with you for a friend I'll weather the storm.
McTee's a hard man, but when Scot meets Scot--I'll bet on the Campbells." "Would you bet on me against Black McTee ?" queried the engineer, deeply moved.

"Well, lad, McTee's a dour man, but dour or not he shall not run the engine room of the _Heron_." And he banged on the table for emphasis.
"Scrub down the bridge every morning, as they tell you, but when they send you below to pass the coal, come and report to me first.