"Do you want me to understand that it's—mutiny?"
"I said I don't know what it is, Mr. Trask."
"How about Bevins? Is he in on it, too?"
"All hands. They're off there in the dinghy now, and I don't know what they're up to."
"So you're not putting out a kedge?"
"No, sir. That was to git you back to your bunk. I was out on deck before you was, and Peth sneaked the dinghy. I suppose they've got some fool idea that there's a lot of gold on the island, and——"
Jarrow broke off and said no more. Trask thought he had heard something and waited for him to go on, but after a long pause the captain did not seem inclined to say anything more, but took long pulls on his cigar, which he kept shaded from the sea behind his hand.
Trask's mind worked rapidly. If anything, the truth from Jarrow that there was danger from Peth and the crew had steadied him, and while he realized his helpless position if Jarrow were deceiving him, he at least had proof of a desperate situation aboard the schooner.
"What do you think they would do if they found gold on the island, captain?"
"Don't ask me. Might come back and burn the Nuestra."