One of the miners was flung roughly against the new passenger.
With a wide, powerful sweep of his arm the man who had just come aboard
hurled the miner back among his companions.
"Gangway!" he said brusquely, and as he strode forward did not even
glance in the direction of the angry men pressing toward him.
"Here. Keep back there, you fellows. None of that rough stuff goes,"
ordered the mate sharply.
The big Cornishman who had been tossed aside crouched for a spring. He
launched himself forward with the awkward force of a bear. The suitcase
described a whirling arc of a circle with the arm of its owner as the
radius. The bag and the head of the miner came into swift impact. Like
a bullock which has been pole-axed the man went to the floor. He turned
over with a groan and lay still.
The new passenger looked across the huge, sprawling body at the group
of miners facing him. They glared in savage hate. All they needed was a
leader to send them driving at him with the force of an avalanche. The
man at whom they raged did not give an inch. He leaned forward slightly,
his weight resting on the balls of his feet, alert to the finger tips.
But in his eyes a grim little smile of derisive amusement rested.
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