Harris did so.  For the moment, at least, he was completely cowed.

A man was sent for the captain, with instructions to tell him just what occurred.  Of course the captain of the steamer was the only person who could order one of the men placed in irons.

The captain came in in a little while, and he listened in great amazement to the story of what had taken place.  His face was hard and grim.  He asked Frank a few questions, and then he ordered that Harris be ironed and confined in the hold.

“Mr. Merriwell,” said the captain, “I am very sorry that this happened on my ship.”

“It’s all right, captain,” said Frank.  “You are in no way to blame.  The fellow shipped with the intention of doing just what he did, if he found an opportunity.”

“It will go hard-with him,” declared the master.  “He’ll not get out of this without suffering the penalty.”

Harris was sullen and silent.  Frank spoke to him before he was led away.

“Harris,” he said, “you have brought destruction on yourself.  I can’t say that I arm sorry for you, for, by your persistent attacks on me, you have destroyed any sympathy I might have felt.  You have ruined your own life.”

“No!” snarled Sport.  “You are the one!  You ruined me!  If I go to prison for this, I’ll get free again sometime, and I’ll not forget you, Frank Merriwell!  All the years I am behind the bars will but add to the debt I owe you.  When I come forth to freedom, I’ll find you if you are alive, and I’ll have your life!”

Then he was marched away between two stout men, his irons clanking and rattling.

CHAPTER X.

The game in the next room.

When Merry appeared in his stateroom he was greeted with a storm of questions.

“Well, what does this mean?”

“Trying to dodge us?”

“Running away?”

“Muts the whatter with you—­I mean what’s the matter?”

“Where have you been?”

“Stand and give an account of yourself!”

Then he told them a little story that astounded them beyond measure.  He explained how he had taken a fancy to look the steamer over and had fallen in with the engineer.  Then he related how he had visited the engine room and been thrown into the stoke-hole.

But when he told the name of his assailant the climax was capped.

“Harris?” gasped Rattleton, incredulously.

“Harris?” palpitated Diamond, astounded.

“Harris?” roared Browning, aroused from his lazy languidness.

“On this steamer?” they shouted in unison.

“On this steamer,” nodded Frank, really enjoying the sensation he had created.

“He—­he attacked you?” gurgled Rattleton, seeming to forget his recent sickness.

“He did.”

“And you escaped after being thrown into the stoke-hole?” fluttered Diamond.