“Well, I ain’t kidnapping cow-punchers to steal my boat,” replied Hopalong.  “An’ you fellers stand still or I’ll drop you cold!” he ordered to the assembled and restless crew.  “Johnny!” he shouted, and his companion popped up through the hatch like a jack-in-the-box.  “Good boy, Johnny.  Tie this coyote foreman like you did the others,” he ordered.  While Johnny obeyed, Hopalong looked around the circle, and his eyes rested on Hogan’s face, studying it, and found something there which warmed his heart.  “Friend, do you know the back trail?  Can you find that runt of a town we left?”

“Aye, aye.”

“Shore, you; who’d you think I was talking to?  Can you find the way back, the way we came?”

“Shure an’ I can that, if I’m made to.”

“You’ll swing for mutiny if you do, you bilge-wallering pirate!” roared the trussed captain.  “Take that gun away from him, d’ye hear!” he yelled at the crew.  “I’m captain of this ship, an’ I’ll hang every last one of you if you don’t obey orders!  This is mutiny!”

“You won’t do no hanging with that load of weapons below!” retorted Hopalong.  “Uncle Sam is looking for filibusters—­this here gun is ‘cotton,’” he said, grinning.  He turned to the crew.  “But you fellers are due to get shot if you sees her through,” he added.

“I’m captain of this ship—­” began the helpless autocrat.

“You shore look like it, all right,” Hopalong replied, smiling.  “If yo’re the captain you order her turned around and headed over the back trail, or I’ll drop you overboard off yore own ship!” Then fierce anger at the thought of the indignities and injuries he and his companion had suffered swept over him and prompted a one-minute speech which left no doubt as to what he would do if his demand was not complied with.  Johnny, now free to watch the crew, added a word or two of endorsement, and he acted a little as if he rather hoped it would not be complied with:  he itched for an excuse.

The captain did some quick thinking; the true situation could not be disguised, and with a final oath of rage he gave in. “’Bout ship, Hogan; nor’ by nor’west,” he growled, and the seaman started away to execute the command, but was quickly stopped by Hopalong.

“Hogan, is that right?” he demanded.  “No funny business, or we’ll clean up the whole bunch, an’ blamed quick, too!”

“That’s the course, sor.  That’s the way back to town.  I can navigate, an’ me orders are plain.  Ye’re Irish, by the way av ye, and ’t is back to town ye go, sor!” He turned to the crew:  “Stand by, me boys.”  And in a short time the course was nor’ by nor’west.

The return journey was uneventful and at nightfall the ship lay at anchor off the low Texas coast, and a boat loaded with men grounded on the sandy beach.  Four of them arose and leaped out into the mild surf and dragged the boat as high up on the sand as it would go.  Then the two cow-punchers followed and one of them gave a low-spoken order to the Irishman at his side.