They reached the beach and the captain hailed the ship. Again and again he sent his voice booming over the water, and the others supplemented his efforts by waving their arms. It was impossible that they should not have been heard or seen; but the Bertha Hamilton might have been a phantom vessel for all the response that was evoked.
The captain fumed and stormed with impatience.
"What's the matter with those swabs?" he growled.
"Ah! now they're lowering a boat," cried Drew.
"They've taken their time about it," growled the captain.
The boat put out from the side and headed for the beach. When half-way there, the rowers overtook the captain's boat and secured it. Then, instead of resuming their journey, they turned deliberately about and rowed back. The boats were both hoisted to the davits and quietness again reigned on the schooner.
The stupefied spectators on the beach felt as though they had taken leave of their senses.
"Well, of all the——" raged Captain Hamilton, when he was interrupted by the sound of a shot fired on the schooner. Two others followed in quick succession. Then came a roar of voices. A moment later a man leaped from the mizzen shrouds over the rail. He was shot in midair, and those ashore heard his shriek as he threw up his arms and disappeared in the still heaving waters of the lagoon.
"Mutiny!" roared Captain Hamilton.
"Yes," echoed Tyke; "mutiny!"