t," suggested Larry.

"They talk about starving us out," said Luke. "Ain't there nothin' to
eat here?"

An inspection was made of the cabin pantry, which brought to light some
preserves, some pickles, a pot of cheese, and a tin of fancy crackers.

"About enough for one meal," said Captain Ponsberry, grimly.

"And a pretty slim one at that," added Larry. "But I say, captain," he
added, suddenly, "isn't there a door leading from the back of the pantry
down into the hold?"

"There was once--but I had it nailed up years ago, for we never used
it."

"If we can open that, we might get something from the hold."

"Going to eat machinery?" demanded Luke.

"No--canned goods, Luke; I know Jeff had some placed there, for he
didn't have room in his store-room."

"Dat am a fac'," put in the cook. "I'se got lots ob t'ings in dat dar
hold."

"Then that settles the starving question," said Captain Ponsberry. "I've
got a small saw and a hammer down here somewhere. We can use them on the
door."

"And that gives me another idea," went on Larry. "The hatch covering
over the companionway belongs to the fore hatch. If we can reach that
opening from here, why can't we steal on deck when we get the chance and
try to make the mutineers prisoners?"

"Eureka!" shouted Luke. "That's the talk, Larry. Fer your years you've
got a wonderfully long head on ye. We'll make 'em prisoners or chuck 'em
overboard!"

"The idea is worth considering," said the captain. "But we must be
careful."

A search was made and the hammer, small saw, and also a chisel were
found. Then they cleaned out the pantry, took down several shelves, and
thus uncovered the small door which had been nailed up.

"Don't make any noise, or they'll suspect that we are up to something,"
said Captain Ponsberry.

"Let Jeff rattle some dishes," said Larry, and while he and Luke worked
on the door, the cook began to handle the dishes in such a rough manner
that several were broken. He also tried to sing a couple of verses of
his favorite song, "My Gal Susannah!" but his voice was so shaky that
the effort was, artistically, a failure, although it added to the noise,
which was all that was desired.

"They're pretty happy down there," said Wilbur to Shamhaven, as he
listened to the sounds.

"Oh, they're putting on a front," growled Shamhaven. "They'll sing a
different tune when their stomachs are empty."

"I don't know about this mutiny," went on the weak-kneed sailor,