se ashore heard his shriek as he threw up his arms and
disappeared in the still heaving waters of the lagoon.

"Mutiny!" roared Captain Hamilton.

"Yes," echoed Tyke; "mutiny!"

Horror was stamped on every face. One blow had been succeeded by
another still more crushing. It was now not only a question of the
loss of the schooner. Their very lives might be threatened.

"That scoundrel, Ditty!" gasped the captain.

"It's too bad we pulled Allen off him the other day," ejaculated Tyke
savagely. "We ought to have let him finish the job."

"Thank God we've got the weapons anyway!" exclaimed Captain Hamilton.

"Don't think that he hasn't got some too," warned Tyke. "You heard
those shots. No doubt the rascal's got all the guns and ammunition he
wants. You can gamble on it that he isn't figuring on fighting us with
his bare hands."

The captain turned to Rogers and the boat's crew.

"What do you know about this, Mr. Rogers?" he said quietly. "Can we
count on you?"

"That you can, Captain," replied Rogers heartily. "I only know what
I've told you before, sir."

"And how about you, my lads?" Captain Hamilton continued, addressing
the boat's crew. "Are you going to stand with your captain?"

There was a chorus of eager assent. Not one of them flinched or
wavered, and indignation was hot in their eyes.

"Good!" cried the captain approvingly. "I knew you'd sailed with me
too long to desert me when it came to a pinch."

"That makes ten of us altogether," observed Tyke Grimshaw.

"Eleven," put in Ruth. "Don't forget me."

"Eleven," repeated the master of the _Bertha Hamilton_, looking at her
fondly. "You're a true sailor's daughter, Ruth. I'm proud of you, my
dear."

"Eleven," said Drew. "That leaves twenty-five on the ship, including
Ditty."

"Twenty-four," put in Tyke. "There's one less than there was a few
minutes ago."

"Yes," agreed the captain sadly. "And I've no doubt the poor fellow
was killed because he wouldn't join the rest of the gang. Twenty-four,
then. That's pretty big odds against eleven."

"Beggin' your pardon, sir," said Barker, who was the oldest man of the
crew, "but there's some of our mates over there that wouldn't never
fight on the side of that Bug-eye--meanin' no disrespect to the mate,
sir. Whitlock wouldn't for one, nor Gunther, nor Trent. I'd lay to
that, sir."

"No, sir," put in Thompson; "an' Ashley wouldn't neither. No more
would Sanders."

"I believe