. Good luck.'

"Now," said Rogers, "those guns are not now in my bag, and you can't
find them without my say-so; but, if I put you onto them, will you call
it off? Will you let up, and go back reporting that I had escaped? If
you get ashore by any means, will you take me with you and turn me
loose?"

They each looked steadily at Rogers for a moment or two; then Quincy
spoke.

"If you can furnish me my gun, Bill, it's all off. I'll resign my job,
if necessary; but I won't hunt you any more."

"Benson?" asked Rogers.

"The Canadian Mounted Police and the whole Colonial Government can go
hang. Give me a gun, Rogers, and I'll trouble you no more!"

Rogers was about to speak, when the big first mate appeared at the
forecastle door, and said in the forceful manner of deep-water mates:

"Turn to. Where's that bloody-minded stage robber? Hey! Here you are!
Get aft to the wheel again. You can steer, if you are a murderer."

"All right, Sir," answered Rogers, deferentially, and then, in a
whisper to the two, he said, "In my bag, halfway down. Two guns and two
belts."

Then Bill Rogers, desperado, outlaw, and fugitive from justice, went to
the wheel, and as he steered he smiled again, grimly and painfully, for
his nose hurt.

Billings had followed him aft, up on the poop, and to the vicinity of
the after companion, where he stood, waiting for the Captain. Snelling,
having finished his dinner, had gone forward to oversee the men, all of
whom were now on deck and scattering to their various tasks. That is,
all but two. Quincy and Benson, each one girdled with a beltful of
cartridges, each carrying a heavy revolver, each scowling wickedly,
were marching up to Snelling.

"Hands up!" said Quincy, sternly. "Up with 'em and go back to the other
end of the boat!"

Involuntarily, it seemed, the second mate obeyed. Up went his hands
over his head. Then, remembering that he was second mate, he answered,
"What's this? Mutiny! Put them guns down!"

Quincy's gun spat out a red tongue, and Snelling's cap left his head.

"Next time I'll aim lower," said Quincy. "Right about face! March!"

Snelling was impressed. With his hands aloft he wheeled and preceded
them to the poop steps, up which he climbed.

But Billings had noticed, and acted. With a shout down the companion to
the Captain, he whipped out a pocket revolver and hurried forward in
the alley to meet the procession. But he did not use that revolver.
Benson took quick a