disappeared. On the night of Saturday a circumstance occurred which,
slight as it was, gave me some clue as to what was happening.

As I stood at the wheel about midnight, I saw the Captain approach in
the darkness carrying the cabin-boy by the hind leg. The lad was a
bright little fellow, whose merry disposition had already endeared
him to me, and I watched with some interest to see what the Captain
would do to him. Arrived at the stern of the vessel, Captain Bilge
looked cautiously around a moment and then dropped the boy into the
sea. For a brief instant the lad's head appeared in the phosphorus
of the waves. The Captain threw a boot at him, sighed deeply, and
went below.

Here then was the key to the mystery! The Captain was throwing the
crew overboard. Next morning we met at breakfast as usual.

"Poor little Williams has fallen overboard," said the Captain,
seizing a strip of ship's bacon and tearing at it with his teeth as
if he almost meant to eat it.

"Captain," I said, greatly excited, stabbing at a ship's loaf in my
agitation with such ferocity as almost to drive my knife into it--
"You threw that boy overboard!"

"I did," said Captain Bilge, grown suddenly quiet, "I threw them all
over and intend to throw the rest. Listen, Blowhard, you are young,
ambitious, and trustworthy. I will confide in you."

Perfectly calm now, he stepped to a locker, rummaged in it a moment,
and drew out a faded piece of yellow parchment, which he spread on