is unlawful possessions. And now they
began to wonder, to fret secretly, to reconsider the ancient saying that
the way of the transgressor is hard.

On land they could have separated and hidden successfully. Here at sea the
wireless was an inescapable net. Their only hope was to carry on.
Cunningham might pull them through. For, having his own hide to consider,
he would bring to bear upon the adventure all his formidable ingenuity.

At eleven the commotion subsided magically and the men vanished below, but
at four-thirty they swarmed the port bow, silently if interestedly. If
they talked at all it was in a whispering undertone.

The mutinous revellers formed a group of their own. They appeared to have
been roughly handled by the Cleighs. The attitude was humble, the
expression worriedly sorrowful. Why hadn't they beat a retreat? The
psychology of their madness escaped them utterly. There was one grain of
luck--they hadn't killed young Cleigh. What fool had swung that bottle?
Not one of them could recall.

The engines of the _Wanderer_ stopped, and she rolled lazily in the
billowing brass, waiting.

Out of the blinding topaz of the sou'west nosed a black object, illusory.
It appeared to ride neither wind nor water.

From the bridge Cleigh eyed this object dourly, and with a swollen heart
he glanced from time to time at the crates and casings stacked below. He
knew that he would never set eyes upon any of these treasures again. When
they were lowered over the side that would be the end of them. Cunningham
might be telling the truth as to his intentions; but he was promising
something that was not conceivably possible, any more than it was possible
to play at piracy and not get hurt.

At Cleigh's side stood the son, his head swathed in bandages. All day long
he had been subjected to splitting headaches, and his face looked tired
and drawn. He had stayed in bed until he had heard "Ship ahoy!"

"Are you going to start something?" he asked.

Cleigh did not answer, but peered through the glass again.

"I don't see how you're going to land him without the British. On the
other hand, you can't tell. Cunningham might bring the stuff back."

Cleigh laughed, but still held the glass to his eye.

"When and where are you going to get married?"

"Manila. Jane wants to go home, and I want a job."

Cleigh touched his split lips and his bruised cheekbone, for he had had to
pay for his gallantry; and there was a spot in his