he doors, sir? You mean stop 'em up, I suppose. But how?
Arn't got a big cross-cut saw in your pocket, have you?"

"Go on, old chap, and don't chatter so," cried Poole. "Break them in
half."

"Nice tradesman-like job that'll make, sir! It is all very fine to
talk. Here, stand aside, some on you. I never was in a hurry but some
thick-headed foremast-man was sure to get in the way. Let's see;
where's my rule? Yah! No rule, no pencil, no square. Lay that there
first one down, mates. What are they? About twelve foot. Might make
three out of each of them."

One of the joists was laid on the earth close to a collection of dry
leaves.

"Looks like an old rat's nest," said Fitz. "Like enough, sir, only we
haven't no time to hunt 'em. Sure to be lots in a place like this."

"Yes, I can smell them," said Poole--"that nasty musky odour they have!"

The carpenter paced along beside the joist, dividing it into three, and
made a notch in two places with his axe, to begin the next minute
delivering a sharp blow or two where he intended to break the joist.
But at the first stroke the violent jar made the far end of the joist
leap and come heavily down upon the gathered-together nest of leaves.

"Wo-ho!" cried the carpenter. "Steady there!"

"Eh, mon! Look at that!" yelled the cook, as there was a scuffling
rush, and a thickish snake, about seven feet long, dashed out from its
nest and made for the door.

There was a yell of dismay, and the men rushed here and there for the
windows, to escape, the boys as eager as their companions.

It was only the carpenter who stood firm, and he made a chop with his
axe at the reptile's tail, but only to drive the blade into the dry
earth a yard behind.

"After him, Camel!" he roared. "Don't lose him, lad! He'd do to cook
like a big eel. Yah, butter-fingers! You let him go! Why didn't you
try and catch him by the tail? Here, come back, all of you. Take hold
of a joist or two and stir up them nest-like places in the corners. I
dare say there's some more. We shall be hungry by and by. Don't let
good dinners go begging like that. Here, Mr Burnett, sir, and you, Mr
Poole, never you mind them cowardly lubbers; come inside and have a
hunt. It'll be a regular bit of sport."

"Thanks, no," said Fitz, who was looking in through one of the windows,
Poole following his example at another.

"You had better mind, Chips," said the latter. "I dare say there are
several m