“I will hear what you have to say.”

“There is something very bad going on in the steerage,” said Paul, seriously.

“Indeed!  What is it?” asked the principal, full of interest and anxiety.

“Gambling, sir.”

“Gambling!” repeated Mr. Lowington, his brow contracting.

Paul made no reply; and he expected to be asked how he had obtained the startling information.

“Are you quite sure of what you say, Mr. Kendall?”

“Yes, sir, I am.  In mess room No. 8, there are three or four students now engaged in gambling.  I stood at the door long enough to find out what they were doing.”

“This is serious, Mr. Kendall.”

“If you have any doubt about the fact, sir, I hope you will take measures to satisfy yourself at once, for I think the students are still there.”

“I will, Mr. Kendall; remain in this cabin, if you please, until my return,” added the principal, as he moved towards the door.

“You must be careful when you approach them, sir, for the gamblers are very sly.”

Mr. Lowington passed from the professors’ cabin into the steerage, and proceeding to the entrance of No. 8, he paused to listen.  He heard the whispered conversation about the stakes, and “nicks,” “browners” and “outs.”  The gamblers were by this time highly excited by the game, and had not only become imprudent, but absolutely reckless, so intense was the fascination of their employment.  Suddenly, but with a light step, he entered the mess room.  Wilton sat in the berth, while his companions occupied stools outside and their heads were close together.

Mr. Lowington took Adler by the collar of his frock with one hand, and Sanborn with the other, just as Wilton had thrown the props upon the bed.  With a vigorous jerk, he tossed them back upon the floor, so as to obtain a full view of the stakes and the gambling implements.  The culprits were astounded at this sudden descent upon them; but before they could comprehend the situation fully, the principal turned upon his heel, and left the room without a word of astonishment or censure.

“We’re in for it now,” said Wilton, as his companions picked themselves up from the floor, and gazed at each other with a sheepish look.

“That’s so,” replied Sanborn.

“We shall catch it,” added Adler.

“We shall find out how the inside of the brig looks, in my opinion,” continued Wilton.  “I was a fool to play here, right in the steerage.  Shuffles told me that Lowington smelt a mice, and would make a row about this thing.”

“Shuffles told you so!” exclaimed Adler.  “How did he know?”

“I don’t know?  I believe the parson told him last night, when he was in the brig.”

“Why didn’t you say so then?” demanded Sanborn.  “You have got us into a pretty scrape!  That is the reason why Shuffles wouldn’t play himself.”

“Yes, he said it was; but I didn’t believe Lowington knew anything about it; I don’t see how he could.  He walked in here as straight as though he had been sent for, and knew just where to go,” said Wilton.