, with your cute little knives, and your
belaying-pins! Good Lor', men, have you gone crazy? If I hadn't
overheard Cockney, I suppose he'd have led you aft, and got half of you
filled with shot. As it is, they know you are talking mutiny, and they
will be expecting you. You can't surprise them--and what can you do
against their guns?"

Blackie cursed Cockney in a way to curdle the blood. Then he made plain
the fear that was driving the men.

"They know we are talking mutiny--yes, and what's more, they know _who's_
talking mutiny."

"We got to do it now, guns or no guns--ain't that right, mates?" said the
man, Green.

"And the money, too!" added Blackie, artfully. "Enough of it aft there
to set us all up for gents."

Boston plucked me by the sleeve. "Me and Jack are goin' to have a few
words private," says he to the rest. "He's with us--no fear--a feller
like Jack Shreve stands by his mates. Come on, Jack."

I went with him willingly. I was anxious to hear what he had to say
"private." I was even more anxious to get away from the crowd for a few
moments, and think out some scheme whereby I could avert the impending
catastrophe.

Boston led me up on the foc'sle head, and we sat down upon an anchor
stock.

"We ain't such fools as you think, Blackie and me," he commenced
abruptly. "We ain't goin' to face guns with knives--not us. But guns to
guns--well, that's different now, ain't it?"

"What do you mean?" I demanded. "Have you got a gun?"

In answer, he lifted my hand and placed it over his dungaree jacket, I
felt something hard, of irregular shape, beneath the thin cloth, the
outline of a revolver.

"It ain't the only one," he assured me. "Two brace we came on board
with--and we weren't drunk, you bet. We hid them safe before them
fellers aft went through the dunnage. And Cockney didn't find out about
them, either. They don't know aft that we're heeled. The rest o' the
gang ain't acquainted with the fact yet, either. We'll let them know
when the time comes."

He paused, and looked at me inquiringly. "Well?" I asked.

"Well!" he echoed. "Well, just this--a gang that has guts enough to face
shotguns with sheath-knives is a pretty tough gang, ain't it? And it'll
be a lot tougher when it finds out it has four guns of its own, and
plenty o' shells. And it kind of evens up the chances, doesn't it?"

I was thinking fast. All chance to keep the peace was gone, I realized.
Unless----