lost five to our one," Sam summed up.

"Hope they've got a bellyful by this time," I said bitterly.

"They've won the wheel--for the present. But that's unimportant.
Bothwell can't hold it. We'll starve him out. Practically it's our
fight."

What our captain said was quite true. Even if Bothwell could have solved
the food problem and the question of sleep, he dared not leave his
allies too long alone for fear they might make terms and surrender.

For we had beaten them again. They had left now only seven men (not
counting Mack), at least two of whom were wounded. This was exactly the
same number that we had. Whereas the odds had been against us, now they
were very much in our favor when one considered morale and quality.

At Blythe's words we raised a cheer. I have heard heartier ones, for we
were pretty badly battered up. But that cheer--so we heard later--put
the final touch to the depression of the mutineers.

"Mr. Sedgwick, will you kindly step down-stairs and notify the ladies
that the day is ours? Get me some water, Morgan, and I'll take a look at
Mr. Yeager's head. Philips, find Jimmie. Alderson, will you keep guard
for the present? You'd better get back to bed, Dugan. I want to say that
each one of you deserves a medal. If the treasure is ever found I
promise, on behalf of Miss Wallace, that every honest man shall share in
it."

At this there was a second cheer and we scattered to obey orders.

When I knocked on the door of Miss Wallace's stateroom a shaky voice
answered.

"Who is there?"

"It is I--Sedgwick."

The door opened. Evelyn, very pale, was standing before me with a little
revolver in her hand. She wore a kind of kimono of some gray stuff,
loose about the beautifully modeled throat, in which just now a pulse
was beating fast. Sandals were on her feet, and from beneath the gown
her toes peeped.

"What is it? Tell me," she breathed in a whisper, her finger on her
lips.

I judged that her aunt had slept through the noise of the firing.

"They attacked us on the bridge again. We had the best of it."

"Is anybody--hurt?" she asked tremulously.

"Five of them have been killed or badly wounded. We lost Billie Blue,
poor fellow."

"Dead?" her white lips framed.

"I'm afraid so."

"Nobody else?"

I hesitated.

"Little Jimmie is missing. We are afraid----"

Tears filled her eyes and brimmed over.

"Poor Jimmie!"

I'll not swear that the back of my eyes did not scorch with hot te