"Yes, I'd like to see Mr. Mate try that on," exclaimed the governor, fiercely. "Tommy, if you know when you are well off, you won't give no more such orders as that ar. You aint lord an' master of the whole of us, if you do command the Storm King. But you aint cap'n no longer. You can jest take your old name agin; fur I won't serve under no feller who talks of usin' a rope's end on me."

"O, now, do you suppose I am going to stand that?" whined Tom. "I won't serve as a sailor. I am the best navigator and seaman in the band, the only one who knows any thing about the winds and currents, and if I stay on board this vessel I am going to command her."

"Now, Muley," said the governor, "you haven't yet larnt that I am the head man in this society, an' if you don't look out, I'll have to give you a few lessons like I did Will Atkins. You're a foremast hand now."

"Well, I won't be one long," said Tom, who now, being convinced that he could not rule the expedition, had suddenly determined to ruin it. "I've got an idea."

If the governor had understood the meaning of this declaration, he would have paid some attention to it. As he was not yet well acquainted with Tom, he did not think it necessary to reply to him, for he turned to his crew, and ordered them to assist him in hoisting the sails.

"O, now, you are not going to try to sail out in the teeth of this storm," exclaimed Tom, who, ignorant as he was, knew that their chances for reaching the bay were very slim indeed. "You'll sink the yacht before you've gone twenty yards."

"That's enough out of you, Muley," returned the new captain, as he and the crew busied themselves in clearing away the mainsail. "I am master of this vessel now, an' if you don't move when you're spoken to, I'll make you sup sorrow with a wooden ladle, an' that's bigger'n a spoon. Lend a hand here!"

Tom obeyed this order very reluctantly. All his bright hopes had disappeared, like snow before an April shower. The edict of the chief, reducing him to the ranks, destroyed all the interest he had ever felt in the Crusoe band. He no longer desired the success of the expedition; on the contrary, he resolved to defeat it if possible. He would watch his opportunity, and, when he could do so without being discovered, he would slip down into the cabin and liberate all the prisoners. They could arm themselves with their muskets, which the governor had very carelessly left scattered about the cabin, and while Crusoe and his men were occupied in navigating the vessel, they could surprise and overpower them. This was his new idea. By the time he had thought it over, the mainsail had been close reefed, and was ready for hoisting.

"Now, then," shouted the governor, "stand by—"