Johnson, as Johnson, was unrecognizable; and not only that, for his features, as human features at all, were unrecognizable, so discoloured and swollen had they become in the few minutes which had elapsed between the beginning of the beating and the dragging forward of the body.
But of Leach's behaviour--By the time I had finished cleansing the cabin he had taken care of Johnson.

I had come up on deck for a breath of fresh air and to try to get some repose for my overwrought nerves.

Wolf Larsen was smoking a cigar and examining the patent log which the _Ghost_ usually towed astern, but which had been hauled in for some purpose.
Suddenly Leach's voice came to my ears.

It was tense and hoarse with an overmastering rage.

I turned and saw him standing just beneath the break of the poop on the port side of the galley.