“Curse them, what are they doing now?” exclaimed Jarette, loudly. “Oh, if I had only one man I could trust!”
He hurried out of the cabin, and I did not flinch now from opening the lid and looking out, to find that the door had swung to as soon as he had passed through.
The noise was so boisterous forward that I crept out, pushed the door, and stood in the dark saloon, where I could still see the line of light at the bottom of Miss Denning’s cabin as I crept to the companion, and, excited by curiosity, slipped aside to where I could shelter under the bulwark and see what was going on.
There were lanterns now by the big hatch in front of the main-mast, and I could see quite a group of men at whom Jarette was storming.
It was a curious weird-looking scene there in the darkness, for the men’s faces stood out in the lantern-light, and in spite of their fear of their leader they were laughing boisterously.
“You dogs,” he roared; “not a drop more. Go back to your kennel.”
“Mus’ have little drop more, skipper,” cried one of the men.
“No,” he roared, “not a drop, and it shall be allowances from this night.”
“But there’s heaps o’ good stuff spoiling, skipper.”
“I’ll spoil you, you dog,” snarled Jarette, and I saw him snatch a lantern from one of the men and lean down, holding the light over the open hold. “Hi! below there,” he roared; “leave that spirit-keg alone, and come up.”