of a tremble now.

'Shake hands, Starkey,' said Hook, proffering his claw.

Starkey looked round for help, but all deserted him. As he backed Hook
advanced, and now the red spark was in his eye. With a despairing scream
the pirate leapt upon Long Tom and precipitated himself into the sea.

'Four,' said Slightly.

'And now,' Hook asked courteously, 'did any other gentleman say mutiny?'
Seizing a lantern and raising his claw with a menacing gesture, 'I'll
bring out that doodle-doo myself,' he said, and sped into the cabin.

'Five.' How Slightly longed to say it. He wetted his lips to be ready,
but Hook came staggering out, without his lantern.

'Something blew out the light,' he said a little unsteadily.

'Something!' echoed Mullins.

'What of Cecco?' demanded Noodler.

'He's as dead as Jukes,' said Hook shortly.

His reluctance to return to the cabin impressed them all unfavourably,
and the mutinous sounds again broke forth. All pirates are
superstitious; and Cookson cried, 'They do say the surest sign a ship's
accurst is when there's one on board more than can be accounted for.'

'I've heard,' muttered Mullins, 'he always boards the pirate craft at
last. Had he a tail, captain?'

'They say,' said another, looking viciously at Hook, 'that when he
comes it's in the likeness of the wickedest man aboard.'

'Had he a hook, captain?' asked Cookson insolently; and one after
another took up the cry, 'The ship's doomed.' At this the children could
not resist raising a cheer. Hook had well-nigh forgotten his prisoners,
but as he swung round on them now his face lit up again.

'Lads,' he cried to his crew, 'here's a notion. Open the cabin door and
drive them in. Let them fight the doodle-doo for their lives. If they
kill him, we're so much the better; if he kills them, we're none the
worse.'

For the last time his dogs admired Hook, and devotedly they did his
bidding. The boys, pretending to struggle, were pushed into the cabin
and the door was closed on them.

'Now, listen,' cried Hook, and all listened. But not one dared to face
the door. Yes, one, Wendy, who all this time had been bound to the mast.
It was for neither a scream nor a crow that she was watching; it was for
the reappearance of Peter.

She had not long to wait. In the cabin he had found the thing for which
he had gone in search: the key that would free the children of their
manacles; and now they all stole forth, armed with such weapons as they