This added fuel to the flames. Two of the remaining sailors grappled with him.
Charge! men! Charge! came from a person not before seen.
One of Walter’s antagonists fell, but the other held him by the throat. Now came the tug of war. The result depended on the strength of muscle. The fight goes on. They get nearer the dock, both exerting themselves to throw the other overboard. They both fell, and for a moment are buried in the briny deep. When they came to the surface, Walter had the sailor by the throat, holding him off at arm’s length. His face was black, and his tongue protruded. Walter withdrew his hand, and the sailor sank.
At this moment a boat appeared as if by magic, and Walter was drawn on board in an unconscious condition.
Thank you, Lieutenant, thank you! exclaimed Captain Davis. But for your timely arrival we should have all been murdered.
Not at all, Captain. I but did a sailor’s duty. I both saw and heard what was going on, and ordered a file of marines to your rescue.
Well planned and skillfully executed, said Davis. Now iron these mutineers, and place them in the cage until they can be lawfully disposed of.
Order being restored, embarkation commenced. Mrs. Davis sat in the stern, holding Walter’s head in her lap, while the Captain stood near the centre, with the cat Amy in his arms.
Arriving on board, the Captain ordered a council of his officers to see what was their opinion about leaving port that night, and to learn, if possible, whether this had been a preconcerted mutiny, or whether it was caused by drinking too much rum.
The First Lieutenant said he would vouch for every man on board. The mutineers, he said, are safely ironed, and the rest of the men are loyal.