his pillow when he sleeps," said Shamhaven. "Wait till I find out."
He shoved his hand under the headrest with caution and presently his fingers came into contact with a strip of leather and chamois. He pulled on it gently, but it refused to budge.
"Lift his head a little," he said, and Peterson started to do as requested. But the movement, gentle as it was, caused Larry to open his eyes.
"Wha—what are you doing here?" stammered the young second mate, when, waiting for no more words, Peterson clapped a dirty hand over his mouth.
"Keep still, you! If you no keep still I hit you good, yes!"
"Confound the luck," muttered Shamhaven. "I didn't want him to know what we were up to."
Larry began to struggle and with an effort threw aside the hand over his mouth.
"Le—let up!" he spluttered. "I want you Help!"
"Shut up!" cried Shamhaven, fiercely, and struck him a swinging blow in the temple. Another blow from Peterson followed, and then, with flashing lights darting through his brain, Larry lost consciousness.
Both men bent over him to see if he would move.
