aptain some plain
hot broth! He is much fevered."

The atmosphere seemed right to Chris for all he had to do. Without
Claggett Chew's commanding and forbidding presence, the pirates would
be in a turmoil. Chris returned to the higher rigging to wait until
darkness should be more profound.

It was not long before the tropic night fell, deeply blue in the first
hours until the stars should give off their high clear light. As the
_Vulture_ rolled and pitched over the sea far down beneath him, Chris
clung to the rigging and took the chance of changing himself into his
own shape. Then, with all the haste he could, he moved a hundred feet
above the hard decks, up the masts and along the sails, setting the
new knife gently here and there to part the fibers of the cloth. As he
went the lines were touched occasionally in vital spots.

It took long, for it had to be done with care. Chris scarcely made a
move without looking down to see whether the sailors might not have
glanced up at the dusky full-bellied sails, but they were weary after
two such hard-filled days and soon fell asleep on the planks of the
open deck. Only Simon Gosler hobbled in and out, watching a sailor
here, stealing from another there, lifting his head slowly above the
window of the Captain's cabin to spy on what went on inside. Like a
dark malevolent spirit, Simon Gosler, crippled in thought and body,
moved restlessly about the pirate ship.

Chris completed his task on the sails and rigging and slipped down to
hide behind the third mast as he looked out to see where Simon Gosler
might be. He could see him nowhere, and holding his breath, stepped
over two sleeping pirates sprawled on their backs on the deck to reach
the hatch of the hold. He had one last task to perform before leaving
the _Vulture_.

The hatch top was open, laid back as before, and Chris, feeling some
danger, changed to a mouse as he crouched on the top rung.

Hesitating, sniffing the fetid air of the hold, he finally ran down
the ladder edge. There he sensed imminent death at its foot in time to
leap as far as he could as he reached the last few rungs of the
ladder. For Simon Gosler stood waiting at the bottom armed with a
club, which he brought down with a splintering crash on the wooden
crossbars as the mouse ran past and leapt out of sight. Curses
instantly filled the hot air like so many wasps. Simon Gosler thrashed
around with the club laying it about him on the floor, narrowly
m