His heart hammering, Ken lifted one leg, hooked his foot around the rail
support and pulled himself up. He shifted his grip, reached for the top rail and swung himself on deck.
He crouched down on hands and knees, his eyes fixed on Tux’s broad back.
Tux was making enough noise while hammering a chisel into the head of the cask to cover the slight sounds Ken had made getting on deck.
Ken watched him. The thirty-foot gap that separated him from, Tux was too wide to risk a rush. Besides, he hadn’t a weapon and he had no intentions of tackling Tux with his fists.
He decided his only chance against Tux was to combine forces with Johnny. The two of them should be able to handle Tux. He began to creep towards the companion ladder.
Tux got the head off the cask, straightened and turned suddenly.
Ken flattened out and lay still, his heart doing a somersault while he watched Tux walk along the deck and disappear behind the bridge house. He came into sight again before Ken could move, carrying a sack of cement on his shoulder. He emptied the cement into the barrel, then he went back for another sack.
Ken darted across the deck, reached the companion ladder and scrambled down it as Tux reappeared.
He found himself in a narrow, dimly lit passage. One of the four doors on either side of the passage had a key in the lock. He could hear Tux moving about above him, and guessed he hadn’t much time. He turned the key, pushed open the door and entered the small cabin.