by Larry and Luke. "Don't you let dem swing me from de yardarm!"
"Jeff, where are Grandon and Vincent?" demanded Larry.
"I dunno, sah—dead, I guess," answered the cook. "Oh, dis am de awfulest t'ing wot I eber heard tell ob!" he added, woefully, and wrung his hands.
The lantern in the cabin was turned up and Larry gave his attention once more to Captain Ponsberry, who was now opening his eyes.
"Oh, my head!" came with a shiver. "My head!"
"I'm glad they didn't kill you," said Larry, kindly. "Luke, help me carry him into the cabin. We'll put him on the couch."
This was done, and they did what they could to make the master of the schooner comfortable. But it was a good half-hour before Captain Ponsberry could sit up and do any rational thinking.
On deck all had become suddenly quiet. Occasionally those below could hear a footstep near the companionway, showing that one or more of the mutineers were on guard. The hatch shut off the view on deck, and the windows in the ceiling of the cabin were also boarded over from the outside.
