ld Bob's face.

"But your national beverage of coffee contains much food value," added
the Japanese, and he barked an order to the Chinaman.

Yip seized a large cup, filled it with black coffee from the big
percolator standing in the center of the table, and carried it to
Martin. He held it to Martin's lips.

Martin drank eagerly, tilting back his head and staring upward into
Yip's face. He half expected to see some sign of friendship there, a
fleeting smile, or the flutter of an eyelid. He recalled that Yip had
winked at the boatswain, down in the lazaret, and the boatswain had
attached importance to the action. But he was disappointed. There was
not the hint of an emotion in Charley Bo Yip's moon-like face; not the
ghost of an encouraging recognition. Not even Ichi's passionless
countenance could match Yip's serene, blank face for lack of
expression. The Chinaman might have been pouring the coffee down a
hopper, rather than down a man's throat, from his impersonal demeanor.

But if Yip disappointed, the coffee did not. The strong, hot stuff
flooded strength through Martin's veins, eased his smarting throat,
lubricated his parched tongue. When Yip turned away with the empty
cup, Martin heaved a satisfied sigh.

"That is better," he said to Ichi. "Fire away. I can talk now."

Ichi started off on a rambling and flowery appreciation of Martin's
implied thanks. Martin gave attention with his ears, but his eyes
roved. He had been puzzled since his entry into the room by a certain
oddity, familiar oddity, about the other men's appearance.

Carew was wearing a guernsey much too large for him, and Carew was a
very big man. Martin suddenly recognized the guernsey as the property
of the boatswain. Ichi was clad in shirt and trousers belonging to
Little Billy--not a bad fit. The ju-jitsu man sported a complete
outfit of his, Martin's. Obviously, the belongings of the _Cohasset's_
crew had been looted to cover the scarecrow nakedness of the captors.

Something else Martin noticed, while Dr. Ichi talked on with Oriental
indirectness. There was a large cupboard affixed to the cabin's
forward bulkhead. It stood open and empty. Martin knew what its
contents had been. It had been the ship's armory; it had contained
four high-powered rifles, two shotguns, and four heavy navy revolvers,
with a plentiful supply of ammunition for all arms. They were gone.
He reflected they must be in the hands of Carew's men.