will have your joke. But
tell me, what's up? We weren't expecting you here. Mr. Davidson's gone
ashore."

"Just a lark, Peterson," said I. I had slipped down the mask so that
he could see me plainly. "By George, sir!" said he, "I am glad to see
you, back on the old boat again. Where have you been?"

"Just come on board, Peterson," said I. "I am going to run her now
myself.

"Money not paid over, Peterson," said I. It stretched my conscience a
bit, although the truth was I had Davidson's uncashed check in my
pocket at the time.

"We've all had our pay regular," he rejoined. "Why, what's wrong?"

"But I haven't had mine, Peterson," said I. "When the charter money
isn't paid and an owner has reason to suppose that his boat is going
to be run out of the country, he has to act promptly, you understand.
So I have taken my own way. The _Belle Helene_ is in my charge now,
and you will report to me for orders."

"What's that squalling?" demanded Peterson, who was a trifle hard of
hearing.

"Something seems wrong with John, the cook," I answered. "I only hope
he has not made any resistance to my men, who, I promise you, are the
most desperate lot that ever cut a throat. For instance, they have
locked Williams down in the engine-room. Go over there, Peterson, and
quiet him. But tell him that, if he shows a head above the hatch, he
is apt to have his brains blown out. Keep quiet now, all of you, until
I get this thing in hand."

"But the boat's under charter to Mr. Davidson," demurred Peterson.

"Charter or no charter, Peterson," said I, "I'm in command here, and
it's no time to argue."

At this time we heard cries of a feminine sort from the after deck, so
I knew that L'Olonnois, as well, had performed the duty assigned to
him.

"Stay here, Peterson," said I. "It's all right, and I'll take care of
you in every regard. Wait a moment."

[Illustration: "Who are you?" she demanded]

I hurried aft. L'Olonnois stood in the shadow, his back against the
saloon door, facing his two prisoners. I also faced them now. The deck
lights gave ample illumination, so that I could see her--Helena--face
to face and fairly. She turned to me; but now I had pulled up my mask
again, and she could have no more than a suspicion as to my identity.

"Who are you?" she demanded. "What right have you here?"

For half a moment I paused. Then I felt a sense of relief as I heard
at my elbow the piping voice of L'Olonnois in reply.

"Lad