The men lined up.  The situation was tense, horrible, so that the miscellaneous articles from their pockets—­knives, keys, plugs of chewing tobacco, and here and there, among the foreign ones, small combs for beard and mustache unexpectedly brought to light, caused a smile of pure reaction.  Two revolvers from Oleson and McNamara and one nicked razor from Adams completed the list of weapons we found.  The crew submitted willingly.  They seemed relieved to have some one to direct them, and the alacrity with which they obeyed my orders showed how they were suffering under the strain of inaction.

I went over to Singleton and put my hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Singleton,” I said, “but I’ll have to ask you for your revolver.”

Without looking at me, he drew it from his hip pocket and held it out.  I took it:  It was loaded.

“It’s out of order,” he said briefly.  “If it had been working right, I wouldn’t be here.”

I reached down and touched his wrist.  His pulse was slow and rather faint, his hands cold.

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Yes,” he snarled.  “You can get me a belaying-pin and let me at those fools over there.  Turner did this, and you know it as well as I do!”

I slid his revolver into my pocket, and went back to the men.  Counting Williams and the cook and myself, there were nine of us.  The cook I counted out, ordering him to go to the galley and prepare breakfast.  The eight that were left I divided into two watches, Burns taking one and I the other.  On Burns’s watch were Clarke, McNamara, and Williams; on mine, Oleson, Adams, and Charlie Jones.

It was two bells, or five o’clock.  Burns struck the gong sharply as an indication that order, of a sort, had been restored.  The rising sun was gleaming on the sails; the gray surface of the sea was ruffling under the morning breeze.  From the galley a thin stream of smoke was rising.  Some of the horror of the night went with the darkness, but the thought of what waited in the cabin below was on us all.

I suggested another attempt to rouse Mr. Turner, and Burns and Clarke went below.  They came back in ten minutes, reporting no change in Turner’s condition.  There was open grumbling among the men at the situation, but we were helpless.  Burns and I decided to go on as if Turner were not on board, until he was in condition to take hold.

We thought it best to bring up the bodies while all the crew was on duty, and then to take up the watches.  I arranged to have one man constantly on guard in the after house—­a difficult matter where all were under suspicion.  Burns suggested Charlie Jones as probably the most reliable, and I gave him the revolver I had taken from Singleton.  It was useless, but it made at least a show of authority.  The rest of the crew, except Oleson, on guard over the mate, was detailed to assist in carrying up the three bodies.  Williams was taken along to get sheets from the linen room.