heavens," he thought, "was the
mate dead?" He hailed sharply, and a husky voice answered. Seeing
nothing else at hand that would serve, he lowered an end of the carpet,
keeping a grip on the other, and presently Murray got a hold and
clambered up beside him.

In a dozen whispered words Kettle told his plans, and they were on the
point of starting off to carry them out, when the _slop-slop_ of
slippers made itself heard advancing down the corridors. Promptly the
pair of them sank into the shadows, and presently the ex-fireman came up
whistling cheerfully an air from some English music-hall. He did not see
them till they were almost within hand-grips, and then the tune froze
upon his lips in a manner that was ludicrous.

But neither Kettle nor his mate had any eye for the humors of the
situation just then. Murray plucked the man's legs artistically from
beneath him, and Kettle gripped his hands and throat. He thrust his
savage little face close down to the black man's. "Now," he said,
"where's Rad? Tell me truly, or I'll make you into dog's meat. And speak
quietly. If you make a row, I'll gouge your eyes out."

"Rad, he in divan," the fellow stuttered in a scared whisper. "Sort o'
front shop you savvy, sar. Don' kill me."

"I can recommend my late state-room," said Murray.

"Just the ticket," said Kettle. So into the _oubliette_ they toppled
him, clapping down the door in its place above. "There you may stay, you
black beast," said his judge, "to stew in the smoke you raised yourself.
If any of your numerous wives are sufficiently interested to get you
out, they may do so. If not, you pig, you may stay and cure into bacon.
I'm sure I sha'n't miss you. Come along, Mr. Mate."

They fell upon Rad el Moussa placidly resting among the cushions of the
divan, with the stem of the water-pipe between his teeth, and his mind
probably figuring out plans of campaign in which the captured rifles
would do astonishing work.

Kettle had no revolver in open view, but Rad had already learned how
handily that instrument could be produced on occasion, and had the wit
to make no show of resistance. The sailor went up to him, delicately
extracted the poignard from his sash, and broke the blade beneath his
feet. Then he said to him, "Stand there," pointing to the middle of the
floor, and seated himself on the divan in the attitude of a judge.

"Now, Mr. Rad el Moussa, I advise you to understand what's going to be
said to you now, so t