"Blime me! Hand wye wouldn't they be scare't hof hit?" snarled the Cockney.
"That bein' the general feelin'," Ditty said calmly, "why we'll stick to my plan. Let the old man dig it up hisself and bring it aboard.
"It'll save us the trouble, won't it? And mebbe we can git rid of some of the swabs, one at a time——"
"Huh!" chuckled Bingo. "One's gone halready. Hi see yer bloomin' scheme, Bug-eye."
"Well, then," said the mate, rising from his seat, "keep it to yourself and take your orders from me, like the rest does."
"Hall right, matey, hall right," said Bingo, and likewise stood up.
Drew dared remain no longer. He stole away to the stern and stood for a while, looking over the rail into the black water—no blacker than the rage that filled his heart.
He felt half tempted to attack the treacherous Ditty with his bare hands and strangle the rascal. But he knew that this was no time for a reckless move. There were only himself, the captain, and Tyke to face this promised mutiny. Probably they could trust Rogers, and some few of the men forward might be faithful to the after-guard. The uncertainty of this, however, was appalling.
After a time he went below and rapped lightly on the captain's door. The commander of the Bertha Hamilton opened to him instantly. He was partly undressed.
"Eh? That you, Mr. Drew?"