Then there was a pause, and soon the leader commanded one of his men to follow Jack. The man demurred. None of the others would go after him.
“He’s too handy with that belaying pin,” observed one.
One man was struck with a brilliant idea.
“Bottle him up,” he cried. “Clap on the hatch covers and batten down. Then we have him and can sleep in our bunks in peace.”
“Good,” exclaimed the leader.
This plan seemed to satisfy all parties, and a general movement warned Jack that his incarceration was imminent. For a moment he was disposed to make a last desperate sortie, but the certainty that he would be killed before he reached the deck decided him to lie low.
The hatch covers dropped into their beds. Then Jack heard the tarpaulin dragged over the hatch, shutting out the last gleams of light that had filtered through joints of the covers; the battens were dropped into the catches, the wedges driven home.
Jack sat in a darkness like that of the tomb.
CHAPTER IV.
FRANK MAKES A FRIEND.
It was clear to Jack that this was no place to stay if he could help it. From the first it had been evident to him that there was something wrong about the ship. Apart from the lawless behavior of the crew, there was the fact that since he had come on board he had seen no vestige of an officer.