en how do I know?--sh! I hear somebody coming on the roof."

"Tumble back in yore bunk--quick!" Hopalong hurriedly whispered. "Be
asleep--if he comes down here it'll be our deal."

The steps overhead stopped at the companionway and a shadow appeared
across the small patch of sunlight on the floor of the forecastle.
"Tumble up here, you blasted loafers!" roared a deep voice.

No reply came from the forecastle--the silence was unbroken.

"If I have to come down there I'll--" the first mate made promises in no
uncertain tones and in very impolite language. He listened for a moment,
and having very good ears and hearing nothing, made more promises and
came down the ladder quickly and nimbly.

"_I'll_ bring you to," he muttered, reaching a brawny hand for
Hopalong's nose, and missing. But he made contact with his own face,
which stopped a short-arm blow from the owner of the aforesaid nose, a
jolt full of enthusiasm and purpose. Beautiful and dazzling flashes of
fire filled the air and just then something landed behind his ear and
prolonged the pyrotechnic display. When the skyrockets went up he lost
interest in the proceedings and dropped to the floor like a bag of meal.

Hopalong cut another piece from the rope in his hand and watched his
companion's busy fingers. "Tie him good, Johnny; he's the only ace we've
drawn in this game so far, an' we mustn't lose him."

Johnny tied an extra knot for luck and leaned forward, his eyes riveted
on the bump under the victim's coat. His darting hand brought into sight
that which pleased him greatly. "Oh, joy! Here, Hoppy; you take it."

Hopalong turned the weapon over in his hand, spun the cylinder and
gloated, the clicking sweet music to his ears. "Plumb full, too! I never
reckoned I'd ever be so tickled over a snub-nosed gun like this--but I
feel like singing!"

"An' I feel like dying," grunted Johnny, grabbing at his stomach. "If
the blamed shack would only stand still!" he groaned, gazing at the
floor with strong disgust. "I don't reckon I've ever been so blamed sick
in all my--" the sentence was unfinished, for the open porthole caught
his eye and he leaped forward to use it for a collar.

Hopalong gazed at him in astonishment and sudden pity took possession of
him as his pallid companion left the porthole and faced him.

"You ought to have something to eat, Kid--I'm purty hungry myself--what
the blazes!" he exclaimed, for Johnny's protesting wail was finished
outside t