“The officer of the deck sent me here, sir.”

“I asked for you; did LeVere tell you why?”

“No sir; only that I was to come at once and quietly.”  I put my hand on his shoulder.  “Tom,” I said soberly, but so low I felt sure even Gunsaules would not overhear, “we are in the same boat, and understand each other.  The chance has come for both of us, if we play the cards right.  Listen while I tell you the situation, and what I plan doing.”

I told it briefly, wasting no words, yet relating every fact, even including my visit and conversation with Dorothy, and the throwing of the body through the after port.  He listened eagerly, but without interruption until the end.

“What do you make of it?” I asked, irritated by his silence.

“About what you do, sir.  I knew there was something of the kind going on—­some of the men forward are in on it.  You’ve got the ring-leader.”

“Manuel, you mean.  Who did he count on for help in the forecastle?”

“Cochose, and a handful of others, niggers and Spaniards, mostly.  They even tried out one or two white men.  That’s how I heard of it, through Jack Jones, but they never told him enough to make the plan clear.  However, with what you’ve just said I’ve got a pretty fair understanding.  They meant to pull the affair off either today or tonight.  What sorter lookin’ chap was the fellow you knocked out, sir?”

“I scarcely saw his face—­a half-breed I should say; rather short, but stout, with long hair.”

“Jose; he is the one Manuel would choose for such a job.  But why he got into the girl’s room is more than I know.  However, if he is dead, and Manuel a prisoner, it gives us a fair chance, sir.  It leaves those fellows amidships without a leader.  A dozen good men on deck might do the business.”

“But are there a dozen aboard to be trusted?”

He hesitated, running the names over in his mind, evidently weighing each one carefully.

“Well, yes sir.  I rather think there are,” he said finally.  “It won’t do for to make any mistake here, but I’m pretty sure of these fellows.  I’d say that in both watches there’s maybe fourteen to be relied on.  There’s one or two others in the starboard watch who are likely enough all right, but I don’t get to see them alone much.”

“Who do you pick out?”

“In my watch there’s Jones, Harwood and Simms, either English or Welsh.  They’re all right.  Then there’s a nigger named Sam; Schmitt, a Dutchman, with his partner, whose name I don’t know, and two Frenchies, Ravel and Pierre.  That makes eight, nine counting myself.  Then in the starboard watch I’d pick out Jim Carter and Joe Cole, two Swedes, Carlson and Ole Hallin, and another nigger.  Then there are a couple of Finns who ought to be with us, but I can’t talk their lingo.  That would give us sixteen out of thirty, and it’s quite likely some of the others would take a hand with us, if they thought it was safe.  I have’nt any use though, sir, for Francois LeVere.  There ain’t a worse scamp aboard.”