"They have plenty. They've been packed in a bulkhead, but Fleming and Caine gave them out to the men this morning."

"The deuce! That looks ugly. They must be getting ready for business soon. If Caine approaches you again, fall in with his plans. Find out all you can, especially what men we can rely on. That will do."

"Yes, sir."

As soon as the man had gone the captain turned to me with a fighting gleam in his quiet eyes.

"Well, Jack, it's worse by a devilish lot than I had thought. We're in for mutiny. I wouldn't ask for anything better than a turn with these wharf rats if it weren't for the ladies. But with them aboard it's different. Wish I knew when Mr. Caine intends to set the match to the powder."

"What's the matter with my going down into the men's quarters and having a look around? I might stumble on some information worth while."

He shook his head.

"No, thanks. I need my second officer. If he went down there an accident might happen to him--due to a fall down the stairway or something of the sort."

"Then let me send Jimmie. n.o.body would pay any attention to him. He could go into their quarters without suspicion."

"It would be safe enough for him at present. Why not? Don't tell him too much, Jack."

"Trust me."

Jimmie jumped at the chance to go sleuthing again. I had told him a yarn about suspecting some of the men had whisky concealed in the ship.

He was away less than half an hour, but when he came back it was with a piece of news most alarming.

"Mr. Sedgwick," he gasped, "you remember that big, black-faced guy you set me trailing in 'Frisco--Captain what's-his-name--well, he's on this ship sure as I'm a foot high!"

My heart lost a beat. "Certain of that, Jimmie?"

"Yep, it's a lead-pipe cinch. Saw him in the engine room talking to Mr.

Fleming. When he seen me Mr. Fleming called me to come down. But not for Jimmie. He took a swift hike up the stairs."

The boy was all excitement. For that matter so was I, though I concealed it better. If Bothwell were on board the ship as a stowaway the aspect of affairs was more serious even than we had thought.

"You're sure it was Captain Bothwell, Jimmie?"

"Say, would I know me own mother? Would I know Jim Jeffries or Battling Nelson if I got an eyeful of them walking down Market Street? Would I be sure of the Chronicle Building if I set my peepers on it? Betcherlife."

"How was he dressed?"

"In sailors' slops. Didn't have on any coat. Wasn't right sure of him at first, 'cause he's run a lawn mower over them whiskers of his. But this guy's the original Bothwell all right, all right."

"Jimmie, listen to me. Don't whisper a word of this. Do you hear?"

"I'm a clam."

"And don't go exploring in that end of the ship again. Captain Bothwell would as soon wring your neck as a chicken's, my boy. Keep away from the forecastle."

Immediately I joined Blythe on the bridge and told him what Jimmie had discovered.

The captain nodded.

"That explains what was puzzling us. Bothwell has been too shrewd for us. He must have arranged it to throw his men in our way when we were selecting a crew. The scoundrel is laughing in his sleeve at us because we're taking him and his men at our expense to the treasure."

"He's diddled us beautifully," I admitted with a sour grin.

"I grant him one round. The man is dangerous as a wild beast that has escaped from its cage. But we're warned now. If he bests us it's our own fault."

"It will be a finish fight, no surrender and no quarter."

My friend nodded, his jaw gripped tight.

"You've said it."

"We've one advantage. All of us will stand together. He can't hold his riffraff long. They will quarrel among themselves. Every day that pa.s.ses works in our favor."

"Right enough, but Bothwell knows this as well as we do. He'll move soon. We've forced his hand by discovering his presence. Now he can't let us get into port because he knows we would get help against him."

"That's true."

"Unless I guess wrong we'll hear from him inside of twenty-four hours."

"Since it has to be, the sooner the better."

Blythe shrugged his broad, lean shoulders coolly.

"What must be must. As for Captain Bothwell, I don't think he'll have an easy time of it. If he doesn't like the treatment he's going to get he'll have n.o.body to blame but himself. n.o.body asked him on board."

"We must lose no time in making preparations to meet an attack."

"You're right. Tell Mr. Mott I wish to see him. Have Yeager look our weapons over and make sure that they are loaded. Tell him to guard the armory until further notice. Better give Morgan a revolver at once and slip Dugan one if you can."

The flinty resolution in his eye warmed my heart. Man for man, I was ready to back Blythe against Bothwell.

The Scotch-Russian had more of the devil in him, a starker cruelty, a more blazing pa.s.sion, and perhaps greater cunning; but if I read the Englishman aright there was in him that same quiet force which carried Captain Scott to the south pole and afterward gave to the world that immortal letter, written in a bleak Antarctic waste of icy death.

Sam Blythe would play the game out steadily to a fighting finish.

CHAPTER XI

TAKING STOCK

Yeager was sitting with the ladies under the awning telling them some story of his beloved Arizona. At a signal from me he arose and excused himself. We pa.s.sed into the reception room and down the stairway.

"You're armed, of course," I said.