ss. The sun beat fiercely down, bringing the fresh
paint on the taffrail up in blisters, and sorely trying the tempers of
the men who were doing odd jobs on deck.

The cabin, where the two victims of a mutinous crew had retired for
coolness, got more and more stuffy, until at length even the scorching
deck seemed preferable, and the girl, with a faint hope of finding a
shady corner, went languidly up the companion-ladder.

For some time the skipper sat alone, pondering gloomily over the state
of affairs as he smoked his short pipe. He was aroused at length from
his apathy by the sound of the companion being noisily closed, while
loud frightened cries and hurrying footsteps on deck announced that
something extraordinary was happening. As he rose to his feet he was
confronted by Kate Rumbolt, who, panting and excited, waved a big key
before him.

"I've done it," she cried, her eyes sparkling.

"Done what?" shouted the mystified skipper.

"Let the bear loose," said the girl. "Ha, ha! you should have seen them
run. You should have seen the fat sailor!"

"Let the--phew--let the-- Good heavens! here's a pretty kettle of fish!"
he choked.

"Listen to them shouting," cried the exultant Kate, clapping her hands.
"Just listen."

"Those shouts are from aloft," said Hezekiah sternly, "where you and I
ought to be."

"I've closed the companion," said the girl reassuringly.

"Closed the companion!" repeated Hezekiah, as he drew his knife. "He can
smash it like cardboard, if the fit takes him. Go in here."

He opened the door of his state-room.

"Shan't!" said Miss Rumbolt politely.

"Go in at once!" cried the skipper. "Quick with you."

"Sha--" began Miss Rumbolt again. Then she caught his eye, and went in
like a lamb. "You come too," she said prettily.

"I've got to look after my ship and my men," said the skipper. "I
suppose you thought the ship would steer itself, didn't you?"

"Mutineers deserve to be eaten," whimpered Miss Rumbolt piously,
somewhat taken aback by the skipper's demeanour.

Hezekiah looked at her.

"They're not mutineers, Kate," he said quietly. "It was just a piece
of mad folly of mine. They're as honest a set of old sea dogs as ever
breathed, and I only hope they are all safe up aloft. I'm going to lock
you in; but don't be frightened, it shan't hurt you."

He slammed the door on her protests, and locked it, and, slipping the
key of the cage in his pocket, took a firm grip of his knife, an