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"How soon?"
"Well, perhaps to-morrow morning."
"Not before dot, hey?"
"No."
"All right den; you can go on an' starve so long!" growled Ostag Semmel, and went away. A moment later he met Shamhaven.
"What did he say?" asked the latter, anxiously.
"He comes to terms to-morrow!" answered the Russian, triumphantly.
CHAPTER VIII
TURNING THE TABLES
The meal which Jeff prepared put all in the cabin in better humor, and as soon as it was over a council of war was held.
It was decided to wait until darkness had set in, and then try to gain the deck of the s.h.i.+p by way of the fore hatch. In the meantime the door to the companionway was to be locked and barred, so that the mutineers could not attack them very well from that direction, should a running fight ensue.
As Jeff would be of no use in a struggle he was delegated to remain in the cabin, to make as much noise as possible, singing and talking to himself, so that the mutineers might not suspect what was taking place.
Each member of the party armed himself both with a pistol and a cutla.s.s, and Larry led the way as before, candle in hand. It was easy for Luke to follow him, but rather difficult for the captain, who was more portly.
"Reckon as how ye shouldn't have eaten so much, captain," chuckled the old tar, as he helped Captain Ponsberry through a particularly narrow place.
"True, Striker," was the answer. "But you be careful that you don't slip into some slit between the cases and go out of sight."
They soon gained the spot where the canned goods had been found. They had now to climb over some machinery that reached nearly to the top of the hold, and then over a varied collection of boxes and barrels and bags. On the bags lay some of the old sails of the s.h.i.+p and several coils of discarded rope.
They were just approaching the open fore hatch when they saw a rope ladder let down. Instantly Larry uttered a warning and put out the light.
"Somebody is coming down," he whispered.
It was the sailor Wilbur, who had been sent to get some canned goods for cooking purposes. He came down the rope ladder with a lantern slung over one arm.
"We'll make him a prisoner!" cried Captain Ponsberry. "And let us do it as quietly as we can, so as not to disturb those on deck."
The others understood and crouched back in the darkness. Then, as Wilbur pa.s.sed them, the captain caught him from the back and Larry clapped a hand over the fellow's mouth.
"Oh!" spluttered Wilbur, but that was as far as he got.
"Not a word! Not a sound, Wilbur!" said Captain Ponsberry, earnestly.
The sailor understood, and being a craven at heart he almost collapsed.
It was an easy matter to take one of the old ropes and tie his hands behind him. Then Captain Ponsberry confronted the mutineer, making a liberal exhibition of his pistol as he did so.
"Wilbur, answer me truthfully," said the master of the _Columbia_. "Are you all in this mutiny or not? Don't speak above a whisper."
"I ain't in it!" whined Wilbur. "They dragged me in, they did. I ain't kicking about grub, or nothing!"
"Are all the others in it?"
"Kind of, yes. Groot didn't care much to go in. Guess he wish he was out of it now."
"What has become of Grandon and Vincent?"
"Both of 'em are prisoners in the brig."
"Are they wounded?"
"Not much. Grandon had his thumb cut and Vincent got a kick in the back that lamed him."
"Is anybody guarding them?"
"I guess not. All of 'em have got to drinking again. Say, captain, let me out of this fix and I'll never go against you again, never,"
continued Wilbur, earnestly.
"We'll see about that later," was the grim reply.
"Captain Ponsberry, I have a scheme," put in Larry, and he drew the master of the s.h.i.+p to one side. "Wilbur is about the same build as myself. Let me take his coat and cap and go on deck and down to the brig. If I can release Grandon and Vincent we'll be sure to knock out the mutiny in no time."
"It's a dangerous game, Larry."
"Oh, please let me do it!" pleaded the young second mate. The hazard was one which appealed to him strongly.
The matter was talked over for a few minutes and it was decided to let Larry have his way. Wilbur was soon stripped of his coat and the young second mate donned the garment. Then he took the mutineer's cap and pulled it as far over his brow as possible and turned up the coat collar.
"I'll leave the lantern here," he said, and a second later was mounting the rope ladder slowly and cautiously.
With his head on a level with the deck Larry paused to reconnoiter the situation. He knew exactly how dangerous his mission was and that he was running the risk of being shot. But his life in our navy had made him bold, and seeing n.o.body in sight, he leaped out on deck, and hurried with all speed to the ladder leading to the brig. Soon he was in front of the barred door.
"Grandon! Vincent!" he called, softly.
"Hullo, who's that?" came in the voice of the first mate.
"It is I, Larry. Is Vincent there?"
"Yes. Where did you come from?"
"The cabin." Larry unbarred the door. "Are you hurt?"
"Not much. How are you?"