I say we, for I was
quite made one of them, young as I was. Then the matter was thoroughly
discussed, for Mr Frewen's plan proved to be not so easy on
consideration as we had at first supposed.

"You see, gentlemen," said Mr Brymer, "it's one thing to set a trap,
and another to get your rats to walk into it. How were you thinking of
giving it to them?"

"I thought dissolved in water," replied Mr Frewen.

"Two objections to that," said Mr Denning; "the stuff would make it
taste, and in all probability some of the men would not take it."

"I'll answer for it that Jarette would not touch water," cried Mr
Brymer, "so that plan will not do. You can't give it to him with
biscuits. Yes, what's the matter?" he cried, for there was a loud
rapping at the entrance to the saloon.

"Beg pardon, sir," said Bob Hampton's voice, "here's a deppytation from
the chaps in the forksle."

"What?" cried Mr Brymer, in alarm, "are they out?"

"No, sir, not they. One of 'em's got up into the hatchway as spokesman,
and he's been giving us a bit of his mind."

"What does he say?"

"Says as he wants to know whether you mean to starve 'em out; as they've
on'y had some water and biscuit for twenty-four hours, and that if you
don't send 'em some grub, they'll set fire to the ship, for they'd
sooner be roasted than starved."

"All right, Hampton; go back and tell them that we will see what can be
done, but that if they fire another shot they shall not have a biscuit."

"Right, sir," growled Hampton, and he turned upon his heel and went
back, while Mr Brymer exclaimed in an excited whisper--

"There, doctor, could anything be better?"

"No; they are playing into our hands; but there is the difficulty still.
How can we give it to them? It must be something of which all will
partake. Why not have some coffee made for them?"

"Half of them wouldn't touch it," said Captain Berriman. "I'd suggest
grog, but they have spirits no doubt, and they want food."

There was a dead silence, and then feeling nervous, and as if I was
certain to be snubbed, I ventured to speak.

"Wouldn't a tin of the soup do?" I said.

Mr Brymer brought his hand down on my shoulder.

"The very thing!" he cried eagerly. "You have some tins of soup amongst
the Australian meat, captain?"

"Yes, plenty."

"That will do then, only it must be done with a certain amount of
cunning, or they may have suspicions. Depend upon it, if I am seen in
it they will n