the wounds,--consisting of
blows, cuts, and gashes, showed that they had been inflicted by some one
out of his senses; for life must have been extinct before half of them
could have been given.

So far the circumstances seemed clear enough. The maniac captain had
murdered the mate. No motive could be guessed at; for no motive was
needed to inspire a madman.

Beyond this all was shrouded in mystery. What was to explain the
absence of the other four? What had become of them? The crew of the
_Catamaran_ could only frame conjectures,--all of a horrid nature. That
of Snowball was the most rational that could be arrived at.

It suggested the probability that the first mate and captain had
combined in the destruction of the others,--their motive being to get
all the food and water themselves, and thus secure a better chance of
prolonging their lives. They might have accomplished their atrocious
design in various ways. There might have been a struggle in which these
two men,--much stronger than their fellows,--had proved victorious; or
there might not have been any contest at all. The foul crime could have
been committed in the night, when their unsuspicious comrades were
asleep; or even by the light of day, when the latter were under the
spell of intoxication,--produced by the brandy that had furnished part
of the stores of the gig.

All these were horrid imaginings; but neither Snowball nor the sailor
could help giving way to them. Otherwise they could not account for the
dreadful drama of which that bloodstained boat must have been the scene.

Supposing their conjectures to have been correct, no wonder that the
sole survivor of such scenes should have been found a raving lunatic,--
no wonder the man had gone mad!

CHAPTER NINETY THREE.

THE CATAMARAN ABANDONED.

For some time the crew of the _Catamaran_ stood contemplating the gig
and its lifeless occupant, with looks that betokened repugnance.

By reason of the many dread scenes they had already passed through, this
feeling was the less intense, and gradually wore away. It was neither
the time nor the place for any show of sentimentalism. Their own
perilous situation was too strongly impressed on their minds to admit of
unprofitable speculations; and instead of indulging in idle conjectures
about the past, they directed their thoughts to the future.

The first consideration was, what was to be done with the gig?

They would take possession of he