ather! Mr. Pertell!" cried Alice. "Let us have this settled! Jack has
made charges. They may be true or they may not be. But our lives surely
are in danger if this vessel is sinking."

"And I say she isn't sinking! She's as sound as a bell below the water
line!" cried the captain.

"And I say she has a hole stove in her, an' unless it's stopped we'll be
at the bottom in a few hours!" cried Jack. "The mast knocked a hole in
her and she's takin' water fast. The pumps are no good, but they can be
fixed with a little work on 'em."

"Keep still!" the captain shouted. "You're under arrest as a mutineer."

"No he isn't!" exclaimed Mr. Pertell. "This is my vessel. I'm the chief
owner of it, and I here and now depose you as captain, Mr. Brisco, and
appoint Jack Jepson in your place!"

There was a gasp of baffled rage from the former commander.

"Jack, take charge," said Mr. Pertell. "Select as mates whoever you
want. We'll go into this matter of the plot later. Just now we must save
the ship if we can. Everything must give way to that. Do you accept?"

"What! Him captain?" cried Hen Lacomb, who was edging nearer and nearer
to Jack all this while.

"Why not?" asked Mr. Pertell.

"He doesn't know how to navigate. He'll run us aground."

"I wish he _would_ run us on der ground!" murmured Mr. Switzer. "I haf
hat enough of der ocean. Der ground is goot enough for me."

"I can navigate!" cried Jack. "I hold a master's certificate, though
I've only filled mates' berths of late."

"I--I refuse to serve under him," stormed Captain Brisco. "And when we
reach port, I shall lay this matter before the authorities. You can't
depose a captain this way!"

"Can't I?" asked Mr. Pertell coolly. "I rather think I can. I looked up
the law on the rights of owners before I started on this voyage. Jack
Jepson is captain."

"And I refuse to serve under him."

"Very well. Then you can either work your passage, or pay for your
passage, I don't care which. But I'm going to save this ship, and the
lives of those aboard her, if I can."

There was a sudden little scuffle near Jack Jepson, and Hen Lacomb went
sprawling on the deck.

"No you don't!" drawled Mr. Switzer in his most German comedian voice.
"I think you haf fallen. Dit you hurt yourself?" he asked of the
prostrate Hen.

The latter, with a growl, got to his feet, an angry look on his face.

"What happened?" asked Mr. Pertell.

"Oh, noddings dit happen," was the reply. "It is