e
victim, "if you can master navigation, get busy and make good. And you
other ginks get out of here. Talk it over among yourselves, and if you
agree with Forsythe that I'm not in command here, get busy, too, and
I'll overrule you."

He released Denman, moved around among them, looking each man steadily
in the face, and they straggled forward.

"Now, sir," he said to Denman, "come below."

Denman followed him down the companion and into the wardroom. Knowing
the etiquette as well as Jenkins, he led him to his room, opened his
desk and all receptacles, and Jenkins secured the revolver.

"Is this all you have, sir?" asked Jenkins.

"Why do you ask that?" answered Denman, hotly. "As a prisoner, why may I
not lie to you?"

"Because, Mr. Denman, I think you wouldn't. However, I won't ask; I'll
search this room and the whole boat, confiscating every weapon. You will
have the run of your stateroom and the wardroom, but will not be allowed
on deck. And you will not be annoyed, except perhaps to lend Forsythe
any books he may want. He's the only educated man in the crowd."

"Better send him down under escort," responded Denman, "if you want him
back."

"Yes, yes, that'll be attended to. I've no part in your private affairs,
sir; but you gave him one good one, and that ought to be enough for a
while. If you tackle him again, you'll have the whole bunch at you.
Better let well enough alone."

Denman sat down in his room, and Jenkins departed. Soon he came back
with three others--the steadiest men of the crew--and they made a
systematic search for weapons in the wardroom and all staterooms opening
from it. Then they locked the doors leading to the captain's quarters
and the doors leading forward, and went on deck, leaving Denman a
prisoner, free to concoct any antagonistic plans that came to his mind.

But he made none, as yet; he was too well-contented and happy, not so
much in being released from a somewhat false position as a prisoner
under parole as in the lifting of the burden of the years, the shame,
humiliation, chagrin, and anger dating from the school-day thrashing. He
smiled as he recalled the picture of Forsythe staggering along the deck.
The smile became a grin, then a soft chuckle, ending in joyous laughter;
then he applied the masculine leveler of all emotion--he smoked.

The staterooms--robbed of all weapons--were left open, and, as each room
contained a deadlight, or circular window, he had a view of th