Ben and his young companion at once presented themselves on the quarter-deck, where the captain was waiting to receive them, and after the old sailor had repeated the story he had made up for the occasion, and answered a few questions the officer had to ask him, they were told that they would be in the second mate's watch and were ordered to turn to, which meant go to work. They were going as straight to Singapore as they could go, and once there the castaways would be able to look out for themselves. When he concluded, Ben thanked the captain for his kindness, and then put on his hat and started forward.

"Master Bob," said the old sailor, as soon as he had an opportunity to gain the boy's ear for a moment, "make up your mind to one thing, and that is, we have jumped right out of the frying-pan plump into the fire."

"I was just thinking so myself," replied Bob. "These Malays are an awful set—"

"It isn't that," whispered Ben, hastily. "Do your duty faithfully and you will have no trouble with them. But this is an English craft, as I told you. I made one short voyage under this flag, and I know that greater tyrants than these Johnny Bulls never stepped. We have been supping sorrow with a big spoon so far, but we've got to take it by the bucketful now."

"Why, I thought you said these officers wouldn't dare show any tyranny around where the Malays are."

"Neither will they where the Malays are concerned, that is if they understand their business and don't take on too much red-eye, which the cap'n and his mates never go back on, judging by the looks of their noses, and me and you have got to walk a chalk-mark or take what comes. You'll see something on board this schooner that you never saw before—a man triced up and flogged like a beast. Look there!" said Ben, jerking his thumb over his shoulder toward the fife-rail.

Bob looked, and his blood ran cold when his eyes fell upon the instrument of torture there suspended. It was a cat—he knew it in a moment from the descriptions he had often read of it. The handle was about a foot long; the lashes, of which there were a dozen or more, were cut out of stiff leather, and, to make the blows given by them more severe, they were drawn into three or four hard knots. Altogether it was a terrible-looking affair, and Bob thought, from its appearance, it had been recently used.

"Do they use that thing on these Malays?" asked Bob, shuddering, he scarcely knew why, as he returned to his work.

"Sure, and on the whites, too. That's what keeps the men straight. Be careful you don't get it over your back before you know it," was Ben's warning whisper.

As often as he found opportunity, Bob turned to look at the officers of the schooner, and he was forced to believe, with Ben, that unless their looks belied them he had not in any way bettered his situation. They were brutal-looking men, and very overbearing, as Bob soon found, for not even on board the Smart had he been ordered about as he was during the hour the crew were employed in putting things to rights. Before the work was done he saw the cat in use. The negro cook was "started" by the captain—that is, he was flogged from the cabin to the deck, because he had allowed the bean soup to get smoked. The only improvement on the Smart was in the food, which Ben assured him was as good as any sailor ever received.

During the three days that the schooner lay weather-bound in the creek Bob had time to learn something of his new mates and become acquainted with their customs. They were all brawny, fierce-looking fellows, except the first tindal, who was a stripling scarcely older than himself; but that he was a sailor was evident from the manner in which the decks and the rigging were kept. The schooner was as neat and trim as a little man-of-war. Ben quickly worked his way into the Malay's good graces. When he made up his mind to desert the J. W. Smart he secreted his whole stock of tobacco about him, and as the schooner's company had nearly exhausted their stock of the article, the old sailor freely distributed his supply among them. The Malays, in return for this, gave him and Bob a bountiful supply of bedclothing, so that they managed to fare very well, and would have been pleased with their new quarters had it not been for the dreaded cat, which they saw every time they passed the mainmast. On the third day the wind began to abate, and on the morning of the fourth the boats were got out and the schooner towed down the creek. Sail was made, and in an hour more their vessel was bounding over the waves toward Singapore.

For a time nothing exciting happened on board the schooner. Of course there was the usual amount of punishment—not a day passed that did not see the cat brought into use—and even Bob and old Ben came in for a share, the latter being knocked flat by a blow from the mate's fist, and the boy being sent to the mast-head under a broiling sun. What their offense was neither of them had the slightest idea. The nearer the vessel progressed toward her destination the more overbearing and exacting the mates became and the closer the captain clung to his bottle, of which he was very fond. Finally he got so under the influence of its contents that he was obliged to keep his bunk for two days, and his reappearance on deck was the signal for a scene, the remembrance of which disturbed Bob's sleep for many a night afterward. It had been blowing hard all day, and at last the officer of the watch, after the main-top-mast had been carried away, concluded that it would be best to shorten sail. The work had just been completed and the wreck cleared away, and the schooner was beginning to make better weather of it, when the captain staggered up the companion-way.

Bob had never before seen such a fiendish-looking man as he was at that moment. The captain seemed to be greatly enraged, and the boy knew instinctively that something was going to happen. The negro cook, who was well used to his moods, must have thought so too, for he darted into the galley and hid behind the door, and even the surly second mate backed out of his way.

"What's been a-going on 'ere?" roared the captain, glaring about as if seeking some object to take vengeance upon. "What was all that bloody crash I 'eard just now?"

"We carried away the topmast about two hours ago, sir," replied the mate, with more civility than he usually threw into his tones when addressing his superior, "and we thought it would be best to clear up things before you came up."

"But what was that bloody noise I 'eard just now?" repeated the skipper with an oath. "I 'eard a terrific fuss and rumpus up 'ere."

"We have been clearing away the wreck and shortening sail, sir," was the mate's reply.

"You 'ave, hey? Been shortening sail without horders, hey? Don't you know that I command 'ere? Where's the tindal?"

"He's below, with his watch, sir."

"Well, I will soon snake him up and learn him not to shorten sail without horders from me!" yelled the skipper, blundering toward the forecastle. "I command 'ere, and I'll learn you, and him, too, that it is best not to shorten sail without horders from me. I wish you wasn't an officer, and I would trice you up."

Bob and the old sailor were standing in the waist, and as the frenzied captain went staggering by, swinging his arms wildly about his head and fairly foaming at the mouth, they gave him all the room he wanted. Their efforts to avoid attracting his attention drew the savage glare of the old man toward them, and seemed to increase his fury, for Bob was sent aft with a bleeding nose and a dizzy head, while Ben ducked like a flash just in time to escape a vicious back-hander which the skipper aimed at him. The latter thundered across the deck toward the forecastle, and missing his footing at the head of the stairs, went headlong among the watch, who were eating their supper. Bob heard him swearing and storming below, and presently saw him reappear at the head of the ladder, pushing before him the first tindal, whom he had seized by the back of the neck, and who was helpless in his powerful grasp. Close behind him came the watch, who swarmed up the ladder like bees, and were speedily joined by their friends on deck. They all looked as fierce as the skipper himself, and some of them carried their knives in their hands.

"Heaven help us, for our time has come at last!" gasped old Ben. "That drunken fool is going to be the death of us."

"Will they spare none of us?" stammered Bob. "I am sure I never harmed any of them."

"It makes no difference. The last one of us will have to go. Good-bye, Bob. Old Ben will stick to you to the last."

Bob was too terrified to move or speak again, and so he watched the captain with his unresisting prisoner. He pushed him to the mast and looked around for some one to help him. The second mate had retreated to the cabin, and Ben and Bob were the only ones near him. The skipper's eye fell upon them, although they tried to make themselves as small as they could.

"Come 'ere, you two, and 'elp me trice hup this man," said he.

The boy at first did not move, but old Ben, always prompt to obey orders, sprang at the word; and Bob, knowing that the old sailor's judgment and experience would show him what ought to be done under the circumstances, thought it best to follow his example, although he would much rather have assisted in tying up the captain. He caught up a rope and fastened one of the tindal's hands to the shrouds, hauling down on it, in obedience to the captain's order, until the captive's toes just rested on deck.

"Now, I'll show these bloody heathen who's master 'ere!" exclaimed the skipper, snatching up the cat and panting with the violence of his exertions. "'Ere, Watson, take this and lay on till I tell you to stop. We'll learn these bloody heathen—Eh? You won't do it?"

Ben drew back a step or two.

"Cap'n," said he, "it is something I never done, and never will do. I had rather be there myself."

"You would, hey?" shouted the skipper, brandishing the cat in the air. "Well, we will soon have you there, and you'll know how good it feels. Hi, boy! Call hup my two hofficers, and tell 'em to bring my pistols. 'Ere's a bloody mutiny!"

Bob, to whom this command was addressed, ran to the cabin, but found the door fastened. He called to the mates and repeated the captain's order, but there was no response. Had he gone to the stern and looked over, he would have found that one of the small cabin windows was open, and that the second mate was trying to squeeze his burly form through it to reach the boat that hung at the davits. The two officers knew what was likely to be the result of the skipper's unreasonable behavior, and were preparing to leave him to his fate.

"Now, then, boy!" screamed the captain, "where are they?"

"I can't make them answer, sir, and the door is locked," replied Bob.

"Call louder! Tell 'em I want 'em! Knock the door down!" roared the skipper, stamping furiously about the deck. "I'm master 'ere!"

The captain bared his arm as he spoke, grasped the cat with a firmer hold, and swung it in the air; but just as the blow descended upon the tindal's back the Malays made the rush that Ben had long been expecting, flourishing knives and handspikes and yelling hideously. The old sailor, loyal to the last, threw himself in front of his officer to protect him, but was instantly stretched on deck by a blow from a handspike, and a moment later the captain lay motionless by his side. Bob gave himself up for lost. There was no place to which he could retreat for safety, and resistance was not to be thought of. He could only remain passive and await the fate he was powerless to avert. He turned away and leaned upon the rail, looking down at the water, and expecting every instant that a blow from a knife or a handspike would put an end to his existence. But nothing of the kind happened, and Bob finally ventured to cast his eye over his shoulder to see what was going on behind him.

The Malays were gathered in a group in the waist, and while some were busy binding the captain the others were cutting down the tindal. While he gazed, old Ben was lifted to his feet and stood unharmed in the midst of them. No one showed the least inclination to molest him, but, on the contrary, several of the crew gave him hearty slaps on the back, which were doubtless intended to assure him that he had nothing to fear. The old sailor looked around, and seeing Bob standing beside the rail, pale and trembling, quietly joined him.

"Cheer up, my hearty!" said he. "I knew what I was doing when I refused to use the cat on that man. You and me and the doctor are safe, but all the salt in the sea won't save the officers."

"Oh, Ben, this is just awful!" said Bob. "What do you suppose they will do with the officers? Perhaps we might say something that would make them hold their hands—"

"Don't you open your head," said Ben, earnestly. "You will bring death upon yourself if you attempt it. We will never know what they are going to do with them. A man stands a poor show of life who strikes one of these fierce fatalists. As for us, they are going to turn us adrift in a boat."

"They might as well make an end of us at once," said the boy, gazing at the angry white caps that were rolling on every side. "We can't live five minutes out there."

"When we get back to Clifton I am going to tell your father that he had better send you to school until you get your sea-legs on," said Ben, cheerfully. "A boat will live in a worse sea than this."

The first tindal having been released, the Malays held a short consultation, and then an axe was procured and the crew marched aft to the cabin. The door was quickly beaten from its hinges and the Malays rushed in. A fierce struggled followed, loud yells were mingled with the reports of fire-arms, for the mates were brave as well as brutal, and then the crew reappeared bringing with them two more prisoners, who were laid on deck beside the captain, and the bodies of three of their number, who had been stricken down by the bullets from the mates' pistols.

"There; you see how useless it would be for us to ask them to spare their lives, don't you?" said Ben, as the three dead Malays were brought up. "It is no use in talking. If we get safe off ourselves we are going to do well. We'll know all about it in short order."

The first tindal, who was now master of the schooner, at once began to bestir himself, and Bob judged by his actions—for they had not been aboard the vessel long enough to understand any of their language—that he knew just what ought to be done. He sent some of the crew below to bring up a supply of provisions and water, and commanded two of the others to lower away the boat. As soon as it touched the water, Bob, the old sailor and the negro cook were told to get in, the Malays cut the falls with their knives, and, waving a farewell to them, the schooner dashed on, leaving the boat to the mercy of the waves. Bob thought this the worst thing that ever happened to him; but if he had been able to look far enough into the future to see what was to come of it, he would not have been back aboard the schooner for any price.

"Brace up, my hearty!" said Ben, giving the boy a shake which brought his hands down from his face. "You are worth three or four dead men yet. This ain't any sea at all; is it, doctor?"

"No, sir; oh, no, sir," answered the cook, who saw that much depended on keeping up Bob's courage. "I was wrecked once in de Solferino, and we had to take to de boat, and—Laws! You had oughter seen dem waves. Dese ain't a patching to 'em."

"It is not so much being cast adrift in a small boat that I complain of," said Bob, "but I would like to know what is going to become of us. Here we are, miles out of the track of any vessels—"

"Oh, belay your jaw! We are miles out of the track of any vessel? We are right in their track. How long will it be before another English vessel will turn up here? There'll be somebody along directly."

"I wonder if any boy ever had as many adventures as I have had?" said Bob, running over in his mind the various dangers that had befallen since the night he was kidnapped. "If Joe Lufkin knew where I was now he wouldn't expect to see me again. Bob, I wonder what it was that induced him to act as he did."

"Barlow was at the bottom of it," said the old sailor, angrily. "But you will see him again, don't worry about that. I don't want you to go home until you get your father."

"It is useless to think about that," said Bob, despairingly. "My father I shall never see again, so I must make the best of a bad bargain. I wish I knew what the Malays are going to do with those three prisoners. Can't we take the law on them when we get to Singapore?"

"You ain't reached Singapore yet by a mile or two," replied Ben, with a laugh, "and when we get there you'll find that the law ain't for such fellows as we are. In the first place, how are you going to prove the Malays?"

Bob stared hard at Ben, then rested his elbows on his knees and looked down at the bottom of the boat and said nothing.

"The Malays all look alike, and if you were to see one or two hundred of them brought in, how are you going to pick out the ones that did the mischief? And you would be shut up in jail for a witness. I tell you that the best thing you can do would be to hold your jaw and say nothing."

The three castaways kept their eyes fastened upon the vessel as long as she was in sight, hoping to gain some clue to the fate that was in store for the captain and his mates, but for the next half an hour the Malays remained standing on the quarter-deck as if engaged in consultation, and finally the increasing darkness shut her out from view, and they were alone on the deep.