It took a deal of time, for I wrote in the smallest possible characters, and was careful to make them legible—­no small task, considering that the vessel was still rolling and pitching, although it grew calmer toward morning.

We did not have any method of measuring the time, for no bells were struck—­at least, none that we heard—­and Captain Riggs did not have his watch with him, for he had not been back to his cabin from the time I saw him leave it with Harris to explore the mysterious cargo in the storeroom.

As I wrote I was hammering my brains for some solution of the problem before us; for, although I took pains to make the story complete, I was hoping that Captain Riggs would finally hit upon some scheme which would release us from the forecastle and give an opportunity to do battle with our captors.

I took a measure of pride in writing the story, too, for I knew there was a good chance that it might be my last, and I had visions of it being printed in the newspapers some day.

“I’ll cut a little pennant from Rajah’s sarong,” said Riggs with a grin, and he reached up to the sleeping boy and hacked off a bit of his skirtlike garb.  “We’ll make a fancy job of it, Mr. Trenholm, while we’re at it.  The backs of those sheets, with the stamps and postmarks and the address to me, will be good proof that it is not a hoax.

“Folks don’t put much stock in bottles washed up by the sea these days, and we’ll have to offer a reward for having it forwarded, say to my son, and then he’ll be sure.  I guess he’d give a hundred dollars to know what become of his old daddy—­and the girl, too.  Put that in, Mr. Trenholm.”

“And I’ll put in as a sort of P.S. that Captain Riggs intends to make a fight for his ship as soon as he has signed this,” I said.

“You better not put that in,” he said wearily.  “It ain’t so, and I’m something of a churchman, even if it was only to please the wife.  I’m no hypocrite, and I don’t want to have anything in that sounds like a brag.  Just sign it and let it go at that.”

“No, I’ll put that in,” I insisted, looking at him seriously.  “I won’t have them say after getting this that you gave up and took your fate too easily, which they might.  You have been a fighter all your life, and I know you don’t intend to quit now.

“Here is what I’ll say:  ’Captain Riggs wishes it understood that, after setting this message adrift, he and Trenholm and Rajah determined to die fighting rather than go to their doom at the pleasure of Thirkle and his men.  As this is launched upon the waters of the China Sea, the whole story is not told, and we are confident that the Devil’s Admiral and some of his men will yet die.’”

“Oh, that sounds like a boy, Mr. Trenholm—­you better leave it out.”

“No, sir.  This is my story, and you will please sign it now for what it is worth.”

“It isn’t the truth,” he demurred.