slung their hammocks together, and, to all appearances, were soon fast
asleep. At nine o'clock the ship's corporal put out all the berth-deck
lights, which left the place shrouded in darkness. As soon as he had gone
forward again, Simpson raised himself on his elbow, and whispered:

"Turn out, lads. Now's our time."

The boys crept noiselessly out of their hammocks, and followed the sailor,
who led the way directly to the galley, which was, in fact, a small house,
about ten feet square, built on the deck, to which it was insecurely
fastened. Simpson found his handspike without any difficulty, and placing
one end of it under the galley, easily raised it from the deck, while
Archie threw himself on his hands and knees, and crawled in under it. It
was as dark as pitch inside the galley, but he knew exactly where the pies
were kept, and had no difficulty in finding them. He handed three of them
to his cousin, and then crawled out again, and the galley was lowered to
its place. After stowing the pies safely away in their mess-chest, they
again sought their hammocks. The next morning, when the steward entered
the galley to prepare the usual lunch for Blinks, he was surprised, and a
good deal terrified, to find that some of the pies were missing. He
immediately went on deck, and reported it to Blinks, who furiously asked:

"Where have they gone to, you rascal?"

"I don't know, sir, I'm sure," answered the steward, while visions of
double-irons danced before his eyes. "There were eight pies in the galley
when I locked it up last night."

"I don't believe it, you scoundrel. You sold the pies, and think that, by
telling me they are missing, you can make me believe that they were