hey came crowding in on us pell-mell. We had
already switched off the light. Now the lantern was dashed to pieces by
trampling heels.

I was flung back against the wheel and the revolver knocked from my
hand. Sinewy fingers gripped my throat and forced me down until I
thought my back would break. Close to my ear a gun exploded. The
pressure on my jugular relaxed instantly. The body of my opponent sank
slowly to the floor and lay there limp.

I took a long breath, leaped across the prostrate figure, and flung
myself upon another. We struggled. I became aware that we had the room
to ourselves. The others were fighting outside.

The vessel had fallen into the trough of the waves. In one of its
lurches the moon flooded the place with light.

"Sam!" I cried, and he "Jack!"

In the darkness we had mistaken each other for the enemy.

Catching up a cutlas I followed him into the open. Our friends had come
and gone again. To say that they were going would be more accurate. For
they were now in full flight, the pack of wolves in chase.

A few moments earlier and we might have saved the day. Now we could only
pursue the pursuers.

Blythe leaped down the steps, revolver in hand. I followed, but my foot
caught on a body lying at the foot of the ladder. A hand caught my coat.

"Gimme a lift, partner," asked a voice.

"You, Tom?" I cried, helping him up. "Hurt, are you?"

"Knocked in the head. A bit groggy. That's all."

The delay made me a witness rather than an actor in the denouement. Our
friends had disappeared within the saloon and slammed the door. The
foremost mutineer reached it, tried the handle, and threw his weight
against the panels. The others came to his assistance. A revolver shot
through the door dropped one of them. The others fell back at once.

They met Blythe. A stoker swung a cutlas and rushed for him. Full in the
forehead a bullet from the captain's revolver crashed into his brain.
Like a football tackler the body plunged forward to Sam's feet.

For a moment nobody moved or spoke. Then,

"My God!" groaned Henry Fleming.

I cannot account for it. These men had been brave enough in the thick of
the fight while facing numbers not so very inferior to their own. But
now, standing there three to one, it seemed as if some wave of horror
sickened them at sight of the lifeless body plunging along the deck.

They stood there with eyes distended, while Blythe, grimly erect, faced
them as motionless as a