"Confound the luck," muttered Shamhaven. "I didn't want him to know what we were up to."
Larry began to struggle and with an effort threw aside the hand over his mouth.
"Le—let up!" he spluttered. "I want you——Help!"
"Shut up!" cried Shamhaven, fiercely, and struck him a swinging blow in the temple. Another blow from Peterson followed, and then, with flashing lights darting through his brain, Larry lost consciousness.
Both men bent over him to see if he would move. When he lay as still as if dead they looked at each other with satisfaction.
"He won't bother us any more—at least, not for awhile," was Shamhaven's comment.
"Quick, de money belt!" came from Peterson, and as he raised up Larry's head, Shamhaven secured it and stowed it away in the bosom of his shirt. "You no keep him!" he went on, in alarm, showing that he did not trust his companion in crime.
"We'll divide up afterwards," said Shamhaven, briefly. "Now to locate the captain's little pile."
Both tiptoed their way into Captain Ponsberry's stateroom. Here there was a small safe, with the door closed.
"A safe, eh?" said Shamhaven. "Wonder if we can open it?"