y apprehended the situation.

"Stand out from under!" I yelled sardonically; and the three of them
cowered and shrank away as their eyes sought aloft for what new spar was
thundering down upon them.

The lower-topsail, its sheets parted by the fall of the crojack-yard, was
tearing out of the bolt-ropes and ribboning away to leeward and making
such an uproar that they might well expect its yard to carry away. Since
this wreckage of our beautiful gear was all new to me, I was quite
prepared to see the thing happen.

The gangster-leader, no sailor, but, after months at sea, intelligent
enough and nervously strong enough to appreciate the danger, turned his
head and looked up at me. And I will do him the credit to say that he
took his time while all our world of gear aloft seemed smashing to
destruction.

"I guess we'll trim yards," he capitulated.

"Better get the skysails and royals off," Margaret said in my ear.

"While you're about it, get in the skysails and royals!" I shouted down.
"And make a decent job of the gasketing!"

Both Charles Davis and the Maltese Cockney advertised their relief in
their faces as they heard my words, and, at a nod from the gangster, they
started for'ard on the run to put the orders into effect.

Never, in the whole voyage, did our crew spring to it in more lively
fashion. And lively fashion was needed to save our gear. As it was,
they cut away the remnants of the mizzen-lower-topsail with their sheath-
knives, and they loosed the main-skysail out of its bolt-ropes.

The first infraction of our agreement was on the main-lower-topsail. This
they attempted to furl. The carrying away of the crojack and the blowing
away of the mizzen-lower-topsail gave me freedom to see and aim, and when
the tiny messengers from my rifle began to spat through the canvas and to
spat against the steel of the yard, the men strung along it desisted from
passing the gaskets. I waved my will to Bert Rhine, who acknowledged me
and ordered the sail set again and the yard trimmed.

"What is the use of running off-shore?" I said to Margaret, when the
kites were snugged down and all yards trimmed on the wind. "Three
hundred and fifty miles off the land is as good as thirty-five hundred so
far as starvation is concerned."

So, instead of making speed through the water toward deep sea, I hove the
_Elsinore_ to on the starboard tack with no more than leeway driftage to
the west and south.

But our gallan