tside."

He removed his belt from his waist and buckled it outside his oilskin
coat. Then, when he had transferred the pistol from his pocket to the
scabbard, he assisted the girl.

"There," he said, as he stood back and looked at her, admiringly, "with
all due regard for your good looks, Florrie, you resemble a cross
between a cowboy and a second mate."

"No more so than you," she retorted; "but I've lost my place as cook, I
think." She pointed at the galley chimney, from which smoke was arising.
Denman looked, and also became interested in an excited convention
forward.

Though Jenkins had sent the watch below and the rest to stations, only
the two cooks had obeyed. The others, with the boat still rolling in the
heavy sea, had surrounded Jenkins, and seemed to be arguing with him.
The big man, saving his voice, answered only by signs as yet; but the
voices of the others soon became audible to the two aft.

"I tell you it's all worked out, Jenkins--all figured out while you were
dopy in your bunk."

Jenkins shook his head.

Then followed an excited burst of reason and flow of words from which
Denman could only gather a few disjointed phrases: "Dead easy,
Jenkins--Run close and land--Casey's brother--Can hoof it to--Might get
a job, which'd be better--Got a private code made up--Don't need
money--Can beat his way in--My brother has a wireless--Take the dinghy;
we don't need it--I'll take the chance if you have a life-buoy
handy--Chance of a lifetime--Who wants beach combing in Africa--You see,
he'll watch the financial news--I'll stow away in her--I tell you,
Jenkins, there'll be no killing. I've made my mind up to that, and will
see to it."

The last speech was from Sampson; and, on hearing it, Jenkins waved them
all away. Then he used his voice.

"Get to stations," he said. "I'll think it out. Forsythe, take the
bridge and dope out where we are."

They scattered, and Forsythe mounted to the bridge, while Jenkins, still
a sick man, descended to the forecastle.

"What does it all mean, Billie?" asked the girl.

"Haven't the slightest idea," answered Denman, as he seated himself
beside her. "They've been hinting at big things; and Sampson said that
they might raise my hair. However, we'll know soon. The wind is going
down. This was the outer fringe of a cyclone."

"Why don't they go ahead?"

"Too much sea. These boats are made for speed, not strength. You can
break their backs by steaming into a head s