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СКАЧАТЬ a chair. Bothwell whistled a bar or two of the sextet from Lucia until he was interrupted by the entrance of the engineer with Jimmie Welch.

      In a flash I knew what the man meant to do, and the devilish ingenuity of it appalled me. He had concluded that I was strung up to endure anything he might inflict.

      Now he was going to force me to tell what I knew in order to save the boy from the pain I had myself found almost unendurable.

      What must I do? I beat my wits for a way out. One glance around the room showed me that the scoundrel's accomplices would not let him go much further.

      The weak spot in his leadership was that he did not realize the humanity which still burned in their lost souls. But at what point would they revolt? I could not let little Jimmie go through the pain I had undergone.

      The boy gave a sobbing cry of relief when he saw me and tried to break away to my side. He was flung on the table just as I had been. Gallagher looked at me imploringly while Bothwell fitted the cubes.

      Neidlinger stole a step nearer. His fingers were working nervously. Harry Fleming had turned away so as not to see what would follow.

      "Mr. Sedgwick, what are they going to do with me?" the frightened little fellow called in terror.

      Bothwell took the lad's fingers in his. I opened my lips to surrender—and closed them again. Neidlinger had drawn still another step nearer. The big blond Scandinavian had reached his limit.

      The Slav gave a slight pressure and Jimmie howled. Crouched like a panther, Neidlinger flung himself upon his chief and bore him back to the wall. Bothwell, past his first surprise, lashed out with a straight left and dropped the man.

      Simultaneously Gallagher closed with him, tripping Bothwell so that the two went down hard together. Neidlinger crawled forward on hands and knees to help his partner.

      Shaking off the grip of the irresolute men holding me, I was in time to seize George Fleming, who had run forward to aid 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

       Table of Contents

      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 Ketch."

      "I'll wager he doesn't foreclose, Mr. Yeager," answered Boris with a lip smile.

      Blythe cut short the repartee.

      "We'll put this man in a stateroom and lock him up, Sedgwick. The rest will stay here guarded by Alderson. If one of them makes a suspicious move, shoot him down like a mad dog. Understand, my man?"

      "Yes, sir. I'll see they make no trouble," Alderson answered resolutely.

      I made a suggestion to our captain. After a moment's consideration he accepted it.

      "Very good, Mr. Sedgwick. Have Gallagher, Neidlinger, and Higgins freed. See that they clean the ship up till she is fresh as paint."

      The first thing we did was to gather the bodies of the poor fellows who had fallen in the struggles for the ship. Blythe read the burial service before we sank the weighted corpses into the sea.

      Under my direction the men then swabbed the decks, washed the woodwork, and scoured the copper plates until they shone.

      It was not until luncheon that I found time for more than a word with Evelyn. None of us, I suppose, had suffered more than she and Miss Berry, but they made it their business to help us forget the nightmare through which we had lately passed.

      I remember that Miss Wallace looked round from a gay little sally at Jimmie with a smile in her eyes. I was reaching for some fruit when her glance fell upon my hand.

      "What's the matter with your fingers?" she asked quickly.

      I withdrew my hand promptly. The flesh was swollen and discolored from the attentions of Boris Bothwell.

      "I had a little accident—nothing of importance," was my inadequate answer.

      Her gaze circled the table, passed from Sam's face to that of Jimmie and from Jimmie to Higgins, who was waiting on us. She must have read a confirmation of her intuition of a secret, for she dropped the subject at once.

      "Jack crushed his hand against a piece of iron," explained the captain.

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