o words, yet relating every fact, even
including my visit and conversation with Dorothy, and the throwing of
the body through the after port. He listened eagerly, but without
interruption until the end.

"What do you make of it?" I asked, irritated by his silence.

"About what you do, sir. I knew there was something of the kind going
on--some of the men forward are in on it. You've got the ring-leader."

"Manuel, you mean. Who did he count on for help in the forecastle?"

"Cochose, and a handful of others, niggers and Spaniards, mostly. They
even tried out one or two white men. That's how I heard of it, through
Jack Jones, but they never told him enough to make the plan clear.
However, with what you've just said I've got a pretty fair
understanding. They meant to pull the affair off either today or
tonight. What sorter lookin' chap was the fellow you knocked out,
sir?"

"I scarcely saw his face--a half-breed I should say; rather short, but
stout, with long hair."

"Jose; he is the one Manuel would choose for such a job. But why he
got into the girl's room is more than I know. However, if he is dead,
and Manuel a prisoner, it gives us a fair chance, sir. It leaves
those fellows amidships without a leader. A dozen good men on deck
might do the business."

"But are there a dozen aboard to be trusted?"

He hesitated, running the names over in his mind, evidently weighing
each one carefully.

"Well, yes sir. I rather think there are," he said finally. "It won't
do for to make any mistake here, but I'm pretty sure of these fellows.
I'd say that in both watches there's maybe fourteen to be relied on.
There's one or two others in the starboard watch who are likely enough
all right, but I don't get to see them alone much."

"Who do you pick out?"

"In my watch there's Jones, Harwood and Simms, either English or
Welsh. They're all right. Then there's a nigger named Sam; Schmitt, a
Dutchman, with his partner, whose name I don't know, and two
Frenchies, Ravel and Pierre. That makes eight, nine counting myself.
Then in the starboard watch I'd pick out Jim Carter and Joe Cole, two
Swedes, Carlson and Ole Hallin, and another nigger. Then there are a
couple of Finns who ought to be with us, but I can't talk their lingo.
That would give us sixteen out of thirty, and it's quite likely some
of the others would take a hand with us, if they thought it was safe.
I have'nt any use though, sir, for Francois LeVere. There ain't a