"Grego was one of them. I couldn't see who the others were."
"Where are they now?"
"They went between decks."
"All right," said Sanderson. "The scuttle and the hatch are fast, so that they can't go on deck."
The mate released the sentinel, for it did not appear that he had wilfully aided the pirates. The fact that he was bound, and left in the steerage, was sufficient evidence that he was not in the plot. This was a great relief to us, for we had doubted the man in the beginning, and we could not afford to lose a single hand from our party in the present emergency. We retreated to the cabin for further consultation; for, while Sanderson was disposed to be rash, and grapple with the pirates without delay, I was in favor of ascertaining precisely how we stood, and then fighting the battle by the aid of strategy rather than by brute force alone. We closed and locked the door leading from the cabin to the steerage.
"Now let us know how things stand on deck, before we go any farther," said I, as we paused at the foot of the companion ladder.
"I think we might as well shoot down the pirates at once, and make short work of it, Phil," said the new mate.
"They have one pistol at least, and possibly more. One of us may get the first ball through his head; and as we have everything secure on deck, we can afford to wait better than the pirates. They have made a blunder somewhere, and it is our duty to take advantage of it."
"What blunder?" asked Sanderson.
"In my opinion, Martino and Gorro began the row just a little while too soon. If they had not refused to do duty, all the pirates would have been on deck before this time. They drank too much of their own rum, and it became their foe instead of their friend."