"I signed for cabin-boy.

An' I don't want no boat-pullin' in mine." "Pack up and go for'ard." This time Wolf Larsen's command was thrillingly imperative.

The boy glowered sullenly, but refused to move.
Then came another stirring of Wolf Larsen's tremendous strength.

It was utterly unexpected, and it was over and done with between the ticks of two seconds.

He had sprung fully six feet across the deck and driven his fist into the other's stomach.