form of King, his mate of the starboard watch.
Denman did not know their names, but he sternly commanded them to come
up.

"We can't leave the engines, sir," said Riley, shrinking under the cold
argument of two cold, blue tubes pointed at them.

"Shut off your gas, and never mind your engines," commanded Denman.
"Come up on deck quietly, or I'll put holes in you."

King shut off the gas, Riley turned a valve that eased off the making
steam, and the two appeared before Denman.

"Lie down on deck, the two of you," said Denman, sharply. "Take off your
neckerchiefs, and give them to me."

They obeyed him. He took the two squares of black silk--similar to that
which had covered the face of the rescued woman, and with them he bound
their hands tightly behind their backs.

"Lie still, now," he said, "until I settle matters."

They could rise and move, but could not thwart him immediately. He went
forward, and mounted to the bridge.

"How are you heading?" he demanded, with a pistol pointed toward the
helmsman.

"South--due south, sir," answered the man--it was Davis, of the
starboard watch.

"Leave the wheel. The engine is stopped. Down on deck with you, and take
off your neckerchief."

Davis descended meekly, gave him his neckerchief, and was bound as were
the others. Then Denman looked for the rest.

So far--good. He had three prisoners on deck and one in the wardroom;
the rest were below, on duty or asleep. They were in the forecastle--the
crew's quarters--in the wireless room below the bridge, in the galley
just forward of the wardroom. Denman had his choice, and decided on the
forecastle as the place containing the greatest number. Down the
fore-hatch he went, and entered the apartment. A man rolled out of a
bunk, and faced him.

"Up with your hands," said Denman, softly. "Up, quickly."

The man's hands went up. "All right, sir," he answered, sleepily and
somewhat weakly. "My name's Hawkes, and I haven't yet disobeyed an order
from an officer."

"Don't," warned Denman, sharply. "Take off your neckerchief."

Off came the black silk square.

"Wake up the man nearest you. Tie his hands behind his back, and take
off his necktie."

It was a machinist named Sampson who was wakened and bound, with the
cold, blue tube of Denman's pistol looking at him; and then it was
Dwyer, his watch mate, and Munson, the wireless man off duty, ending
with old Kelly, the gunner's mate--each tied with the neckerchief of t