roaned.

"But there will be reward in the shape of salvage, my lads. I,
single-handed, have taken this schooner as a prize to the gunboat
_Tonans_, commanded by Captain Glossop, whose officer I am. She will be
condemned and sold, and those who help me loyally will have their
reward. Now then, every man stand forward who is ready to do his duty
by me."

At that moment there was a sharp tapping heard from below.

"What's that?" cried Fitz sharply, though he perfectly well knew.

"It's the skipper, sir, a-opening his eyes, I think," said the
carpenter. "You've woke him up, talking like that, and he's coming on
deck with a pair of revolving bulldogs, to begin potting us all round.
Here, who's coming below?"

"Silence, sir; and keep your places."

The carpenter stepped back behind the rest, and the next moment there
rang out a most perfect imitation of the crow of a bantam cock, which
was followed by a roaring outburst of merriment from the men.

Fitz turned scarlet with rage.

"How dare--" he began.

"Ahoy! On deck, there!" came faintly from the cabin, followed by a
heavy sound of beating and kicking.

One of the men made a start aft for the companionway, followed by two
more, but Fitz stepped before them.

"Stop!" he shouted fiercely.

"On deck, there! Do you hear? Open this door!" came from below.

"Take no notice," shouted Fitz, "until I give orders. Here, you
carpenter; where's the arm-chest?"

"Down in the cabin, sir."

"No, no; I mean the other one--the men's."

"Arn't no nother one, sir. We always goes to the captain's tool-chest
when we've got anybody as wants killing, or any job of that kind on
hand!"

"Ahoy, there!" came from below once more, and then the sharp report of a
pistol, a crash, and Poole came bounding up on deck, revolver in hand.

Just as he came into sight the skipper's voice was heard distinctly--

"Lay hold of the first mutineer, Poole, and drag him down here."

"That's meant for you, Mr Fitz, sir," said the carpenter with a
chuckle, and the men roared again.

Fitz turned upon him, white as ashes, like an angry dog about to bite.

"Silence, you insolent scoundrel!" he shouted.

"What's the meaning of this, Burnett?" cried Poole.

"This, sir," said the lad haughtily, stepping forward to meet him,
laying one hand on his shoulder, and making a desperate snatch at the
revolver; "I seize this schooner in the Queen's name. Now, my lads,
make this boy your prisoner