Jack was highly excited as he dashed into the main salon and made for the door of the Temples’ cabin. And with reason. He believed that now, if ever, they must attempt to seize the trawler.

The Chinese crew threatened to get out of hand and seize the ship themselves, in order to make sure of their vengeance upon the boys for what they had done to Wong Ho. If the boys anticipated them, and got the upper hand, they could send a call for help by radio to the sub chaser. It would be a matter of only a very short time before that speedy craft could swing about and come to their rescue. Moreover, they would thereby capture “Black George” Folwell. And Inspector Burton had said it would be a feather in the cap of any man to accomplish that undertaking.

The main salon still was deserted, and the doors to the cabins of “Black George” and Matt Murphy still closed. Jack did not know, of course, whether Doctor Marley had returned to his patient. But he believed that probably the frightened little man had waited above deck to see whether Engineer MacFinney found any signs of sabotage.

The Temples’ door resisted. It was locked. But Bob’s voice called sharply:

“Who’s there?”

“It’s I, Jack. Open up quickly.”

He heard Bob hit the floor, and grinned, even in the midst of his excitement. The big fellow evidently was sleeping late. By the time Bob had opened the door Frank stood beside Jack, completing a sketchy toilet by tucking shirt into trousers.

“Bob, Mr. Temple. We have got to try and seize the trawler at once.”

This was Jack’s opening remark, as he and Frank closed the door to the salon.

Father and son, pajama-clad, sleepy-eyed, looked at him in amazement.

“Are you crazy, Jack?” asked Bob.

The older man, however, regarded Jack keenly.

“You’ve heard something, Jack,” he said. “What is it?”

Briefly and graphically Jack related his morning’s adventurous prowling and the result of his eavesdropping. Then he told what Frank had overheard by the use of the ring-radio.

“That decided me,” he said. “When I heard there was a sub chaser near, I felt we just had to make an effort to capture the trawler’s radio room at least, and call for help. We can hold out until the sub chaser comes up.”

Mr. Temple grew grave.

“But without weapons,” he said, “what chance have we against the Chinese?”

“Look here,” said Bob, slowly, “I’ll bet this fellow ‘Black George’ has a revolver or two in his room. He’s bound to keep a weapon handy. Well, he was helpless last night, and probably still is. What’s to prevent our going in there and taking it from him?”

“Good idea, Bob,” said Frank. “And there’s my friend, Matt Murphy, too. According to Jack, he isn’t up yet. Probably put in a bad night and is sleeping while the ship’s engines are being repaired. He undoubtedly has a revolver, too. Suppose we compel him to give it to us. His arm is broken, and surely if we burst into the room we can overawe him.”

The others nodded approvingly, and the eyes of the three boys lighted up with enthusiasm. Mr. Temple shook his head gravely, but continued to make a hasty toilet nevertheless.

“Pants and shirt, Dad,” said Bob. “That’s all we need. Have to hurry.”

In a trice the two were thus sketchily clad, standing in their bare feet, and then Jack, who had assumed command, gave his orders.

“Mr. Temple,” he said, deferring to the older man’s judgment, “I believe we had better split into two parties and enter the two cabins simultaneously, don’t you? If we all go into one cabin first, either ‘Black George’s’ or Murphy’s, intending to follow into the other later, the probability is that we would alarm the occupant of the other cabin and put him on his guard.”

“Yes, Jack, that’s right. Suppose Bob and I tackle ‘Black George’ and you and Frank go after Matt Murphy.”

“Right,” said Jack, his hand on the door.

“One thing more, boys,” cautioned Mr. Temple. “Go in quickly and quietly, and get your man before he has a chance to fire. We shall do likewise.”

The boys nodded. Then Jack opened the door and, with beating hearts, the four filed out. Jack tiptoed across the salon to prevent his shoes making any sound. The others were in their stockinged feet. Two and two they ranged outside the doors of the two cabins. Mr. Temple nodded that he and Bob were ready. Jack did the same. Then they flung open the doors and dashed in.

Jack and Frank found Matt Murphy sleeping heavily. One look showed an automatic in an ammunition belt suspended from a nail above his head. With one swoop Jack caught the weapon and belt to him. The movement disturbed Murphy, who was lying fully clothed on his berth, the bandaged arm across his chest. He looked at them, then with a roar raised up, but Frank pushed him back on his pillow. Jack drew the weapon and presented it at him.

“Quiet now,” he said, in a low voice. “We don’t want to hurt you. But our lives are in danger from the crew and we mean to protect ourselves.”

Murphy lay back, and a gleam came into his eyes. He looked from one to the other.

“Are they attackin’ ye or do you just guess they’re goin’ to?”

“They haven’t attacked us yet,” replied Frank. “But we’re not waiting for what we know would come. Look here, Mr. Murphy, you know what the sentiment of the Chinese is toward us. Well, my friend Jack here overheard something this morning which indicated the Chinese planned immediate action. Now——”

“Come right in,” invited Murphy sarcastically, looking over Frank’s shoulder. “This is my hour for receivin’ callers.”

Frank whirled.

Mr. Temple and Bob were in the doorway.

“What luck?” he asked eagerly, while Jack, not to be diverted, continued to keep eye and revolver trained on Murphy.

“The man is still drugged,” said Mr. Temple. “We found not only one revolver, but two and a knife besides.”

“Was the doctor there?” asked Jack.

“No.”

“Mr. Murphy, where is the radio room?” Frank demanded.

“On top av this cabin,” replied the recumbent man. “But little good it’ll do ye. MacFinney, the engineer, is the only wan aboard who can operate it, an’ till the engines git goin’ there’ll be no juice if it’s callin’ for help you mane to do.”

They looked at each other in dismay. Here was a contingency that had not occurred to them. Jack groaned aloud. But ere any of them could speak, the stamp of the engines suddenly began. MacFinney had gotten them repaired, whether his Chinese had tried sabotage or not. The engines seemed to gain confidence. A slight quivering shook the trawler.

“There’s your juice, lad,” Matt Murphy said gruffly, reaching out his sound hand to pluck Frank’s sleeve.

Frank whirled, a broad smile on his face.

“Look here, Mr. Murphy,” he declared, “I believe you are on our side at heart, aren’t you?”

Murphy sat up on the berth, swinging his legs over the side.

“Not I,” he said. “I’m Folwell’s man. But when ye point a revolver at me an’ order me to get up an’ navigate the ould tub, what can I do?”

“Right,” said Frank gravely, although his eyes were dancing and the corners of his mouth twitched. “Well, captain, will you please navigate?”

“Sure,” said Murphy. “Follow me.”

As they started out of the salon and up the companionway stairs, Bob pressed a revolver into Frank’s hand.

“Take this,” he whispered. “I have the knife.”

“But Bob——”

“But nothing. If it comes to fighting at close quarters I’ve got more beef than you. You keep them off with that revolver, d’you hear? Don’t let them get near you.”

Frank, the smallest of the three chums, pressed Bob’s hand gratefully, grasped the revolver, and followed in the wake of his big comrade, thus bringing up the procession headed by Matt Murphy.

The latter paused as they reached the deck and looked toward the wheel. He had left it lashed. Not a soul was in sight. The others grouped themselves about him. He addressed Frank.

“I don’t like the looks av things,” he said. “The Chinks must all be in the fo’c’s’le, hatchin’ their plots. Will ye trust your prisoner to go below an’ see how MacFinney is comin’ along? An’ do you meantime while the engines are turnin’ over, an’ ye have your chance, go into the radio room off the bridge. ’Tis up this ladder.” He indicated a narrow iron-runged ladder beside him, leading to the tiny bridge above. Keenly he regarded the boy. “Can ye use it when you’re up there?”

“Yes, indeed,” said Frank. “Well, here goes before a Chinaman sees me. Come on, gang.”

And shinning up the ladder, he entered the room opening from the bridge, with Mr. Temple followed by Bob and Jack hard on his heels. One glance around, and he saw what he was looking for. The control apparatus for sending messages was on a stand against the opposite wall. Adjusting a headphone, and pulling a microphone toward him, Frank reached for the knobs and began calling the Sub Chaser while manipulating them.