He's to other captains what whisky is to beer." The white teeth of the Negro showed.

"Maybe Black McTee won't live long," he suggested.
There was a long silence.

It lasted until the supper was finished.

It lasted until the men slid into their bunks.

And Harrigan knew that every man was repeating slowly to himself: "Maybe Black McTee won't live long." "Not if this gang goes after him," muttered Harrigan, "and yet--" He remembered the fight in Ivilei and the heaving shoulders which showed above the heads of the swarming soldiers.