The white-haired man, in the meantime, was hurriedly making himself known to Commander Ennerling as Egbert Lawton, owner of the “Selna,” a hundred-and-forty-foot schooner rigged steam yacht.  The ladies were his wife and his sixteen-year-old daughter, Miss Ethel Johnson was the steward’s name.

“Get after the yacht again, Captain Benson,” requested Commander Ennerling.  “We have the owner and the ladies safe, but we’ve got to take that crew to land as mutineers.”

“They’ll fight to the last shot,” declared Mr. Lawton, shaking his head.

“Did you and your steward bring your revolvers with you?” asked Ennerling.

“No; we tossed them into the sea as we dived,” laughed Mr. Lawton.  “Bringing weapons to a Naval craft is like carrying coals to Newcastle.”

“Unfortunately,” rejoined the commander, plaintively, “this isn’t yet a Naval vessel, and the most dangerous weapon aboard is the breadknife in the galley.  But how did the mutiny start, Mr. Lawton?  And how did you come to have such a rascally crew aboard?”

“Two or three bad men got into the crew, started fights, and some of the old crew quit.  Then these bad men passed the word to other tough characters to apply to my captain.  In a short time the crew was all of one piece of cloth, including the fellows in the engine room.”

“How many mutineers are there aboard?”

“Thirteen, in all.  Even the cook joined them.”

“But your officers?”

“Captain Peters and Mate Sidney.  It was the mate’s watch when the trouble started.  You see, as most of my cruises have been short, I carried but one mate.  So, on a long run, the captain had to stand watch in turn.  Captain Peters was below.  Mate Sidney went forward, to the forecastle, for something.  He must have been felled and ironed.  One of the crew roused the captain, saying the mate needed him forward.  Then Captain Peters went forward, was seized and ironed.  Then, howling like fiends, in order to frighten us the more, the mutineers rushed aft.”

“Yet you stood them off?”

“Yes; Steward Johnson and I both happened to be on deck, and were both armed.  The rascals didn’t want any of their side killed, so they tried to parley when they saw our weapons.”

“What started the mutiny?”

“Mrs Lawton usually carries her jewels, when on board.  They are worth two hundred thousand dollars—­a rich prize to desperate thieves.”

“What folly to tempt men so on the broad ocean!” muttered Commander Ennerling, under his breath.

“The jewels were kept in a safe in the cabin,” continued Mr. Lawton.

“And there are the scoundrels just smashing in the cabin door,” broke in Jack Benson.

“There they go, piling below.”

“They’re welcome,” jeered Egbert Lawton.  “As it happened, my wife had some sort of presentiment, and the jewels are in two canvas pouches securely fastened under her clothing.  She leaped overboard with them.”