al letter, written in a bleak Antarctic waste of icy death.

Sam Blythe would play the game out steadily to a fighting finish.

CHAPTER XI

TAKING STOCK

Yeager was sitting with the ladies under the awning telling them some
story of his beloved Arizona. At a signal from me he arose and excused
himself. We passed into the reception room and down the stairway.

"You're armed, of course," I said.

"Me? I always pack a gun. Got the habit when I was a kid and never
shucked it. For rattlesnakes," he added with a grin.

"We have a few of them on board. Yeager, the kid saw Bothwell in the
engine room talking with Fleming. Do you know what that means?"

"I can guess, I reckon," he drawled.

"It means war--and soon."

"And war is hell, Sherman said. Let's make it hell for Bothwell. It's
about time for me to begin earning my passage. What's the matter with me
happening down into the forecastle and inviting Capt. Bothwell up to be
more sociable?"

"Won't do at all. If he were alone it would be a different matter. If
you went down there you'd never come up alive. We need every man we've
got. Think of the women."

His light-blue eye rested in mine.

"I'd give twenty cows if they were back in Los Angeles, Jack."

From my pocket I took the key which unlocked the door of the room we
called the armory. After I had selected two revolvers I left him there
attending to business. Morgan I found in Blythe's cabin. He took my news
quietly enough, though he lost color when I told him what we had to
expect.

"I don't know much about revolvers, sir," he said, handling very
respectfully the one I handed him.

"You'll know more in a day or two," I promised. "Morgan, we're going to
beat these scoundrels. Be quite sure of that."

"Yes, sir. Glad to hear it, sir," he answered doubtfully.

"You know Captain Blythe. He's worth half a dozen of these wharf rats.
So is Mr. Yeager."

"Are--are all the crew against us?" he asked after a moment's struggle
with his trepidation.

"No, we know of at least two who are for us. Probably there are others.
Don't be afraid. We're going to smash this mutiny."

"Yes, sir. Captain Blythe will see to that. I put my faith in him."

But in spite of what I had said it was plain that Morgan's faith was a
quavering one. He was a useful man, competent in his own line, but his
_metier_ plainly was not fighting. My news had given him a shock from
which he would not quickly recover.

It was ne