"This time we stay," replied the Frenchman with a smirk—"all three, for ever, if need be."
"We'll do our best to make you at ome, sir," grunted the Englishman; and turning to Kit—
"Slip below and tell Mr. Lanyon to begin to talk when we're locked fast—and not afoor."
CHAPTER X
THE MAIN-DECK
Kit scampered below.
The main-deck was clear as a room before a ball: bulkheads up; hammocks slung. But for the sand on it, you might have danced there.
How big and sweet and clean it looked!—like the loft at home, where he and Gwen and the black cat's kittens played on wet days.
But there was something other than the black cat's kittens to think about now.
The sunshine poured in through the ports on the sleek guns crouching ready. On the breech of one somebody had scrawled in chalk—