"Git out of here, quick!" roared Lesher. "On deck, or I'll flog you well!"
"Ye won't tech me!" cried Jerry, his temper rising. "I aint under orders no more, mind that. Now you let him out, or I'll do it. You was a fool to lock him up in the first place."
He moved toward the brig, but Lesher caught him by the arm.
"Let's teach this chap a lesson, too!" came from Baxter, and, like a flash, he struck old Jerry in the back of the head. The first blow was followed by a second, and down went the tar, the blood oozing from one of his wounds.
"Don't hit him again!" cried Lesher hastily. "He's out already."
Baxter grew pale, thinking he had gone too far. But he soon discovered that Jerry still breathed, and then he felt relieved.
It was decided by the pair that they should place old Jerry beside Dick in the brig, and this was quickly done. Then they put into the prison a bucket of drinking water and a can of ship's biscuits, and another of baked beans.
"They won't starve on that," said Lesher. "And when they get out they'll understand that I am as much of a master here as anybody."
"It serves Dick Rover right," said Baxter. "He's the kind that ought to be kept under foot all the time."