"Dey'll throw us overboard, I know dey will!" groaned Jeff, who was almost white with terror. "I neber see sech goin's-on in all ma life!"

To fight the mutineers further was, just then, out of the question, and Larry turned his attention again to Captain Ponsberry. At last the captain seemed fully to comprehend what had occurred. He once more moved toward the companionway, pistol in hand.

"You can't get out that way, sir," said Larry. "They have placed the fore hatch over the stairs."

"And they are armed, too," put in Luke. "Be careful, sir, or they'll shoot you down."

"And this on my own ship!" came bitterly from the master of the _Columbia_. "That is what I get for treating the dogs better than they deserve. Where are Grandon and Vincent?"

"Either shot down or taken prisoners. They called for help, and that was the last we heard of them."

"And are all the others in this dastardly plot?"

"I reckon they are," answered Luke. "Them foreigners, Semmel an'

Peterson, must have stirred 'em up powerfully."

Still weak from the blow received, Captain Ponsberry sank down once more on the cabin couch. There was a lump as big as a walnut on the top of his head, and he had Jeff bathe it with water and then with witch-hazel, which made it a trifle more comfortable.

A short while later came a sudden wild song from the deck of the schooner, followed by a clinking of gla.s.ses.

"They are treating themselves to grog," said Luke. "I suppose, now they have the run of things, they'll drink all they want of the stuff."

"More than likely," returned the captain. "Well, it is their turn just now--perhaps before long it will be my turn!" And he smiled significantly.

CHAPTER VII

THE MUTINEERS IN POSSESSION

As my old readers know, both Captain Ponsberry and Luke Striker were Yankees to the backbone, and it galled them exceedingly to see the schooner in the hands of a number of mutineers, and especially foreigners.

"We've got to git the ship back, no two ways on it," growled the old tar. "Captain, I'm willin' to fight to the end, if ye give the word."

"And I'll fight, too," said Larry, promptly.

"Don't you go fo' to fight dem rascallions!" whined Jeff. "Yo' will all be killed suah!"

"I would like to know what has become of Grandon and Vincent," came from Captain Ponsberry. "As we stand now, we are but four to seven or eight.

If we could get Grandon and Vincent to aid us we would be six against them."

"Perhaps all the hands are not in the mutiny," suggested Larry. "Why not try to sound them?"

"I was thinking of doing that."

A little later Captain Ponsberry called up the companionway. At first n.o.body paid any attention to him, but presently the hatch was shoved aside a few inches and Ostag Semmel looked down. Behind him was Shamhaven.

"Semmel, what does this mean?" asked the captain, as calmly as he could.

"It means dat ve haf de ship," replied the Russian, with a grin.

"You are carrying matters with a very high hand. Where are Grandon and Vincent?"

"I not tell you dat."

"We had a right to mutiny," said Shamhaven. "The grub wasn't fit to eat and was getting worse every day."

"That's a tale gotten up for the occasion, Shamhaven, and you know it.

Semmel doctored the food to make you dissatisfied."

"Well, we don't think so," grumbled the sailor. "I don't think so, and Groot and the others don't either."

"Has Jack Wilbur joined you?"

"Certainly he has," was Shamhaven's ready reply, but his look belied his words.

"Ve are all pount to stick togedder," said Semmel. "You might as vell gif up--der sooner der petter for you!"

"I don't propose to give up, you rascal."

"Ton't you call me a rascals, no!" shouted Ostag Semmel. "I vos now der captains, yes, do you hear? Captain Semmel!"

"Bosh!" put in Luke Striker, in disgust. "Why ye ain't fit to be the skipper 'f a ca.n.a.l-boat!"

"If you try to navigate the ship you'll sink her on the rocks," put in Larry.

"You had better consider what you are doing, Shamhaven," went on the master of the _Columbia_. "Remember, if I regain possession of the schooner I can make it go hard with you."

"You no get dare schooner again, not much!" came from Peterson, who had just come up, followed by Jack Wilbur.

"Wilbur, are you in this?" demanded the captain. "If you are, I must confess I didn't think it of you."

"I ain't goin' to eat poor grub," answered Wilbur, lamely.

"The grub is all right and you know it. It was doctored up by Semmel, and I----"

"You stop dat talk!" roared Semmel, and then he added: "Maybe you gif in after you are goot an' hungry, hey?"

"What, do you want to starve us out?" cried Larry.

"You see--chust vait!" answered the Russian, and with this the hatch was again put in place and the conference came to an end.

Captain Ponsberry was fairly boiling with wrath, but even so he realized that prudence is often the better part of valor.

"There is no use of trying a rush to the deck," he said. "Those rascals would surely shoot us down. Just now some of them are in the humor for anything."