"Do the dude up, Pedro! Give him what's comin' to him."

The trio formed for a rush. The steward, with a shrill scream, fled to
the cabin. Pearson did not move; he even smiled. The next moment he was
pushed to one side, and Captain Elisha stood at the top of the steps.

"Here!" he said, sternly. "What's all this?"

The three sailors, astonished at this unexpected addition to their
enemies forces, hesitated. Pearson laid his hand on the captain's arm.

"Be careful," he said. "They're dangerous."

"Dangerous? Them? I've seen their kind afore. Here, you!" turning to the
three below. "What do you mean by this? Put down that knife, you lubber!
Do you want to be put in irons? Over the side with you, you swabs! Git!"

He began descending the ladder. Whether the sailors were merely too
surprised to resist, or because they recognized the authority of the
deep sea in Captain Elisha's voice and face is a question. At any rate,
as he descended they backed away.

"Mutiny on board a ship of mine?" roared the captain. "What do you mean
by it? Why, I'll have you tied up and put on bread and water. Over the
side with you! Mutiny on board of ME! Lively! Tumble up there!"

With every order came a stride forward and a correspondingly backward
movement on the part of the three. The performance would have been
ridiculous if Pearson had not feared that it might become tragic. He was