Terrified at the death of their leader, the mutineers, already frightened at the realization of their position, drew back with blanched faces while the rat-faced ringleader fell on his knees and pleaded for mercy.
“Get up!” ordered the Sergeant, and as the fellow rose a pair of handcuffs snapped upon his wrists.
“We’ll take him along with us,” announced Sergeant Manley. “Any others you want to lose, Captain?”
“I’d jolly well like to lose the whole bally lot,” replied the skipper earnestly, “but I can’t. Got to handle the ship you know.”
“Don’t think they’ll give you further trouble,” declared the Sergeant. “Have ’em searched. Keep ’em workin’ an’ carry a gun—each of you. Don’t forget you’re on a British ship and labor unions don’t go under that flag. You’re boss and let ’em know it. Expect those Yankees’ll be glad to lend you a hand with this crowd.”
Presently Captain Edwards and old Pem, with the remaining members of the Narwhal’s crew, came aboard; the few belongings of the shipwrecked whalemen were stowed and preparations were made for departure.
“Think I’ll go along with you to Rowe’s Welcome,” said Sergeant Manley as the whale boats were lowered and the repentant crew prepared to tow the Ruby out of the worst of the ice. “Have to report the loss of the Narwhal, and I’d like to see you safe on your way. Campbell, take the dogs and go overland.”
Then, as the brigantine moved slowly from the inlet, bumping her blunt bows into the floating ice and grinding between the cakes which went bobbing astern, the boys had their first chance to tell the story of their adventures.
“Thank heaven, this cruise is over—or near it!” cried Captain Edwards. “I’d be a nervous wreck if I had you boys to look after much longer, even if you do always come out smilin’ as a clam.”
“I’ll be b’iled if ye can’t git into more consarned scrapes’n a passel o’ monkeys!” declared Cap’n Pem. “Fast as ye’re outen one ye’re into a wusser.”