dently sound asleep.

"What do you make of it, Tom?" I asked, facing him in the dim halo of
light.

"Well, sir," scratching his head with his disengaged hand, "Thar ain't
but two more places ter look--the cuss is either in the lazaret, er'
else hidin' in the passage forward; more likely the last."

"Why not the lazaret?"

"Cause thar wouldn't be no object fer him to go thar. He dudn't get
out agin with the kiver shut down. The thing he'd most likely try fer
wud be ter release them lads amidships--that'd give him a gang o'
bullies ter fight with. My idea is, sir, he thought he'd have time ter
git the bulkhead door open, before anybody cum below--he an' the
steward, who'd know what the tools wus. That wus the scheme, only we
busted in too quick. That whar they both are--skulkin' back in them
shadows."

He fitted the smoking lantern back onto the shelf to have his hands
free for action, and drew a cutlass out of the arm rack, running one
leatherly thumb along the blade to test its sharpness. His eyes sought
mine questioningly.

"Probably your guess is the right one," I said soberly. "We'll give it
a trial, and should need no help to handle the two of them."

The deck under our feet was fairly steady, the vessel having barely
steerage-way, rolling slightly to the heave of the sea. No sound
readied us from above, and the silence of the cabin was profound.
Indeed the stillness irritated me with its mystery, rendered me
reckless to penetrate its meaning. Murder had been committed for a
purpose--it was the first step in an effort to retake the ship. If we
were to retain our advantage there was no time to be lost; we were
pitted now against Silva Sanchez, and he was a leader not to be
despised or temporized with; no cowardly, brainless fool.

The passage leading forward was wide enough to permit of our advancing
together and for a few steps the light dribbled in past us, quite
sufficient for guidance, although our shadows were somewhat confusing.
There were closed doors on either side, evidently locked, as they
refused to yield to the hand. I took these to be storerooms, possibly
containing spoils of the voyage, but gave them little other thought,
my whole interest centered on the intense blackness ahead. I had been
down this tunnel once before, and knew the bulkhead was not far away,
but the few steps necessary plunged us into profound blackness,
through which we advanced cautiously with outstretched hands. No
slight