id the captain.

From the hatchway a crisp order rang out.

"Back there, Fleming!"

I turned. Blythe and Yeager were standing near the foot of the ladder;
behind them Alderson, Smith, Morgan, and Philips. All six were armed.
Their weapons covered the mutineers.

"Gallagher--Neidlinger, don't release that man. You are prisoners--all
of you," Sam announced curtly.

Taken by surprise, the two sailors had ceased to struggle with Bothwell.
I could see the master villain's hand slip to the butt of his revolver.

My foot came down heavily on his wrist and the fingers fell limp. A
moment, and the revolver was in my hand.

Bothwell was handcuffed and disarmed before the eyes of his followers,
who in turn had to endure the same ignominy.

The mutiny on the _Argos_ was quelled at last.

CHAPTER XVIII

ANCHORED HEARTS

Our rescue had been due to the vigilance of Tom Yeager. He had seen
Bothwell slip down from the bridge and follow me to the forecastle.

The first impulse of the Arizonian had been to step out and end the
campaign by a fighting finish with the Slav. But second thoughts brought
wiser counsels. Blythe, called hurriedly upstairs, had agreed to his
proposal to try and determine the mutiny at a stroke.

To both of them it had been clear that Bothwell surrendered the bridge
because he was afraid to let me have a talk with the men alone. That my
life was in great danger neither doubted.

Swiftly the men had been gathered for the sortie into the forecastle,
Evelyn having volunteered to take the wheel until relieved. The success
of the plan had been beyond the expectations of any.

Bothwell was the first of the prisoners to speak.

"Let me offer my congratulations, Captain Blythe," he said with suave
irony.

The lean, brown face of the Englishman expressed quiet scorn.

"Not necessary at all. It is the only result I have considered from the
first. One doesn't expect to be driven from his ship by wharf rats, no
matter how numerous they may be."

Bothwell laughed, debonair as ever.

"True enough, captain. My scoundrels made an awful botch of it. They
played a good hand devilish badly or we should have won out."

"The devil you would! We beat you from first to last at odds against of
two to one nearly. I reckon, Mr. Pirate, you undertook too big a
round-up," grinned the cattleman.

"Fortunately there is always a to-morrow," retorted Bothwell with a bow.

"Sometimes it's mortgaged to Jack Ketc