Navy!"
"Stop that mutiny and submit to your officers," insisted Commander
Ennerling, sternly. "Do you want us to come aboard and wipe you out to
the last man?"
"You can't board us, from a craft of that kind," jeered the fellow
at the yacht's rail.
"You'll find we can, if we have to."
"Come along, then!"
"Do you realize, my man, that we are United States Naval officers?"
"Not when I can't see your uniform," laughed the mutineer, roughly.
"I'm not going to argue with you any more. I've given you my orders.
Do you intend to submit, or will you fight?"
"We'll fight!" roared the mutineer. A hoarse cheer went up from his
comrades.
"They don't estimate our fighting power very highly," muttered Ennerling,
in a low tone. "If they knew the whole truth they'd be still less
afraid of us."
From the mutineer at the rail came another hoarse hail:
"Shove off and get away, or we'll rush the crowd aft and wind up the
women! You start a fight if you think you can. If you know you can't,
then get away. We're not afraid until we're killed."
Now, eight mutineers, in all, lined across the deck, each man showing a
revolver.
"Humph! We've got to fight--and can't!" muttered Commander Ennerling,
in great disgust.
"We can save those women," muttered Jack Benson, "if they've the nerve
to help themselves be saved."
"How?"
"Hal Hastings and I can swim over, and can hold the women up if they
have the nerve to leap overboard.
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