"With the crowd, sink or swim--that's what we want to know?" added
Blackie.

I sized them up. Sailors and stiffs, they stood shoulder to shoulder.
There was no longer a division in that crowd. And they looked to me to
lead them.

I was thinking, desperately trying to discover a course that would help
Newman. So I tried to put the crowd off.

"You heard what Holy Joe said?" I asked.

"He's balmy--and besides what d'ye think a Holy Joe would say?" retorted
Boston. "Now, here's the lay, Shreve--we got to put a stop to this sort
o' work." He pointed to the bunk that held Holy Joe. "That means we got
to take charge of this hooker," he went on. "All hands are agreed to it.
But where do you stand--with us, or against us?"

I made my plea for peace, knowing beforehand it was useless. "How about
Newman?" I said. "You know as well as I that the skipper is out to kill
him. And I have Newman's word for it that the Old Man wants to kill the
lady, too. He's just waiting for an excuse. That's why he's dressing us
down this way, and hazing us raw--so we'll mutiny, and give him the
excuse he needs. Can't you see that?"

"He'll croak 'em anyway--and maybe we can save them," retorted Boston.

"No, Lynch won't allow it," said I. "He's for Newman and the lady. The
Old Man will not dare do it unless we give him the chance by attacking
the cabin, because Lynch would testify against him at the Inquiry. The
Old Man has logged Newman as a mutineer, and our going aft would make him
out one. As it is, Lynch is standing up for him--and for us."

But this was too much for the crowd to swallow. Too many of them had
felt the weight of the second mate's fist.

"Lynch for us? By God, when I have my knife in his gullet--then he'll be
for us!" swore Blackie, and the chorus of approval which followed this
statement showed what the rest thought.

"The last thing Newman said to me, when I relieved him," I went on, "was
a command to prevent this trouble. He said his life, and hers, depended
on our keeping quiet."

"And how about us, how about our lives?" demanded Boston. "That damned
murderer aft is out to croak us, too, ain't he--all of us he can spare?
Look what he's done already! No, by God, we're going to put a stop to
it--and we want to know if you are with us?"

I tried sarcasm. "I suppose you'll end it by walking aft and letting
them empty their shotguns into you! I suppose you'll chase them
overboard, guns and all