Hopalong gazed at him in astonishment and sudden pity took possession of him as his pallid companion left the porthole and faced him.

“You ought to have something to eat, Kid—­I’m purty hungry myself—­what the blazes!” he exclaimed, for Johnny’s protesting wail was finished outside the port.  Then a light broke upon him and he wondered how soon it would be his turn to pay tribute to Neptune.

“Mr. Wilkins!” shouted a voice from the deck, and Hopalong moved back a step.  “Mr. Wilkins!” After a short silence the voice soliloquized:  “Guess he changed his mind about it; I’ll get ’em up for him,” and feet came into view.  When halfway down the ladder the second mate turned his head and looked blankly down a gun barrel while a quiet but angry voice urged him further:  “Keep a-coming, keep a-coming!” The second mate complained, but complied.

“Stick ’em up higher—­now, Johnny, wobble around behind the nice man an’ take his gun—­you shut yore yap!  I’m bossing this trick, not you.  Got it, Kid?  There’s the rope—­that’s right.  Nobody’d think you sick to see you work.  Well, that’s a good draw; but it’s only a pair of aces against a full, at that.  Wonder who’ll be the next.  Hope it’s the foreman.”

Johnny, keeping up by sheer grit, pointed to the rear wall.  “What about that?”

For reply his companion walked over to it, put his shoulder to it and pushed.  He stepped back and hurled his weight against it, but it was firm despite its squeaking protest.  Then he examined it foot by foot and found a large knot, which he drove in by a blow of the gun.  Bending, he squinted through the opening for a full minute and then reported: 

“Purty black in there at this end, but up at the other there’s a light from a hole in the roof, an’ I could see boxes an’ things like that.  I reckon it’s the main cellar.”

“If we could get out at the other end with that gun you’ve got we could raise blazes for a while,” suggested Johnny.  “Anyhow, mebby they can come at us that way when they find out what we’ve gone an’ done.”

“Yo’re right,” Hopalong replied, looking around.  Seeing an iron bar he procured it and, pushing it through the knot hole in the partition, pulled.  The board, splitting and cracking under the attack, finally broke from its fastenings with a sharp report, and Hopalong, pulling it aside, stepped out of sight of his companion.  Johnny was grinning at the success of his plan when he was interrupted.

“Ahoy, down there!” yelled a stentorian voice from above.  “Mr. Wilkins!  What the devil are you doing so long?” and after a very short wait other feet came into sight.  Just then the second mate, having managed to slip off the gag, shouted warning: 

“Look out, Captain!  They’ve got us and our guns!  One of them has—­” but Johnny’s knee thudded into his chest and ended the sentence as a bullet sent a splinter flying from under the captain’s foot.