The captain of the sloop had managed to get the door into his gun-room open just in time, for the mate, Tim and Tom had barely scrambled through when the sailors broke toward them in a rush. The captain slammed down the hatch and they all jumped on top, holding it in place while he clamped it fast.

"I doubt if they will find the other entrance," the captain said. "The crew never knew of this place and they won't be likely to disturb us from the other side."

"I guess they will be satisfied to have us boxed up here," said Dick.

"And as far as I kin see it's satisfied they might be," returned Tim. "How should you figger we are goin' to git out av the place?"

"We'll wait around till it grows dark outside," replied the captain, in an undertone, "and then we'll try to gain the after deck and clear those villains off. Then we will have the ship in our control, so that, with proper luck we'll run in near shore and drive the crew off the decks altogether. The four of us can handle this craft till we make a port and then we'll be able to ship a loyal crew and not a parcel of thieves."

"Fine!" ejaculated Tim. "But why be waiting in this stuffy old box whin we might be lords of the ship by runnin' the monkeys into the ocean?"

"No use taking chances, Tim," replied Tom. "If they get us again we won't make such an easy get away, you can bet."

"That's right," the captain commented. "They'd finish us this time if they could get their hands on us. We have got to win or pay the penalty tonight."

These adverse opinions served to quiet Tim's ardor, and he sat about with the rest waiting for night to throw its blanket of darkness over the scene, and for the rebellious crew to quiet down for the night.

As the time wore on, the Patriots could hear the dull tramping of the mutineers in the cabin next to them, and the muffled sound of voices sifted through the heavy oak partitions. The captain and Tom busied themselves with the muskets and ammunition, and after selecting four guns, a dirk and a cutlass for each of the party, did what they could to put the remaining arms out of commission.

The sounds from the cabin had ceased now, and the four sat impatiently awaiting the moment when they could make their great dash for liberty. Gradually it grew quiet and when they decided that it was safe to venture through the cabin to the after-deck, they quietly loosened the trap and peered into the dimly lit cabin.

The recumbent figures of half a dozen mutineers were seen by the aid of the smoky swinging lamp. Judging from the sounds of heavy breathing, this particular party of sailors were fast asleep. The captain, Tim, the mate and Tom crawled carefully through the opened trap, pushed it closed after them and tip-toed for the short ladder leading to the deck.

The swinging doors at the top of the ladder banged at this moment and the four crouched down, fearing that they would have to start their battle then and there, and under most unfavorable circumstances. One of the men muttered, rolled over and resumed his heavy breathing and the danger was over for a moment.

Following the captain, the three Patriots ascended the steps, pushed the door open and with a rush made for the man at the wheel. Not expecting an attack from this quarter, he was overcome with slight effort, and while Tim and the captain carried him to the ladder leading to the main deck, the mate took charge of the wheel and Tom made fast the cabin doors through which they had just emerged.

"What's going on up there?" came a voice from the lower deck. "Everything all right, eh?"

"Sure, foine as silk," shouted Tim.

"Whot's that?" the sailor queried, noticing the commotion about the wheel.

"Your captain, you scoundrel!" that individual replied. "And now I guess we have got you fellows where you belong. The first man that starts for this deck gets what you all deserve."

"Tim!" called Tom. "You and the mate take the starboard ladder, and I'll try the port. Don't let 'em get within twenty feet of you. And don't be afraid to use those muskets. That's what we've toted 'em up here for."

"That's it," replied Tim. "There'll be none of the crowd gets past us this night."

"Aye, aye," chimed in the mate. "We'll do our part and you just holler if you want any help."

"Oh, I'll be all right," answered Tom confidently. "I don't think those fellows are armed and I guess these guns won't appeal to them very favorably."

"Hard-a-lea!" yelled the captain. "I'm going to try to hold her on the other tack and see if we don't fetch up somewhere near the shore."

"Let her go," responded Tom. "Guess the nearer that we get to land the better it will be for us."

"We can't do much toward working the ship," the captain said, "but I don't see why we can't hold her in the right direction as long as we have control of the wheel and the mainsail."

"Which we have," put in Tim.

"Yes, just at present," responded the mate, at his side. "But there's no telling for how long."

"Ahoy, on deck!" came a cry from the cabin. "What's all this? Let us out, you lubbers!"

"Can't be done, me boys," called out Tim. "We have quite enough av us here now."

This was followed by muffled blows on the cabin doors, but the heavy oak and the iron bar withstood all attempts to force it, and after further ineffectual efforts the group within abandoned their efforts and sought escape in other directions.

Tom could now distinguish the men on the lower deck quite plainly, and in a minute or two, one of them came aft toward him.

"You fellows might as well give in now as ever," said the sailor. "We will get you anyhow, and it will go hard with you if we have any trouble with you."

"Well, if you leave it to us," answered Tom, "we prefer to be gotten later, and in the meantime, let me warn you that the next man that comes within twenty feet of these ladders gets what you all deserve."

"That's fine talk, young fellow, but—" and just then the sailor drew back his arm, hurled something violently at Tom and sprang back before Tom could recover from his surprise.

A shining streak went past him and buried itself for an inch in the rail.

"It's a knife," called out the captain. "You want to be a little more careful and not let them get near enough again."

"You bet I will," replied Tom, startled by his narrow escape.

There was a moment's lull in the excitement, and then a crash resounded from directly below Tim's feet.

"Ouch!" yelled the Irish boy, and discharged his musket wildly into the darkness.

"That was only a bucket of paint," said Tom. "Don't be so free with your bullets."

"Faith, an' I thought it was all killed we were," responded Tim, rather ashamed of his sudden alarm.

"Not yet," replied the mate, with a grim attempt at humor.

"Cheer up," said Tom, in the same strain. "The worst is yet to come."

It was evident to the four on the after deck that the mutineers were as yet without guns, for they would have picked off the boys where they stood against the sky line, had they been able.

But the battle was not won yet, in fact it had hardly begun. While the boys and the mate were gazing through the darkness at the knot of men near the forecastle, three sailors suddenly dashed from behind the main mast, and rushed for Tim's position near the ladder. He and the mate fired in unison at them, and evidently wounded one of their number, for with a howl of pain from the foremost, the three scuttled back toward the bow.

"That's good, Tim," called Tom. "We'll hold 'em all right, eh?"

"Don't want 'em near enough to hold," replied Tim.

"That's painful," commented the mate, at Tim's attempted jest.

"Get back there!" shouted Tom, catching sight of a dark form stealing along the bulwarks.

But instead of getting back, the man jumped from the foot of Tom's ladder, and grasped the upper steps. Tom discharged the musket almost in the fellow's face, and with a groan he fell back on the deck. His comrades, however, now swarmed about the base of the ladder, and Tom, grasping his gun by the barrel, swung it with all his force on the head of the foremost sailor.

The man following, however, succeeded in getting a foothold on the upper deck, and with an upraised dirk, drove Tom back from the ladder. Tom swung at him with the clubbed musket, knocked the dirk out of his upraised hand, and in another second was locked with him in hand to hand conflict.

"Tim!" yelled Tom.

"Coming!" answered Tim, and leaving the mate to guard their side, where the mutineers had been driven back, he rushed around the cabin to the aid of his friend.

He was just in time. Tom and his opponent were rolling on the deck, each endeavoring to put the other out of the fight, and two more sailors were about to step upon the deck from the ladder.

Leaving Tom to take care of himself, Tim attacked the ascending sailors. With a rush and wild shouts, he banged the foremost over the head and sent him crashing down upon the others of the group. Then firing his musket at the crowd, he completed their route, and the whole party fled to the shelter of the forecastle.

"And now, where are ye, Tom?" he called.

"Here," Tom replied, coming from behind the cabin. "If I hadn't hit that fellow on the arm before he closed with me, and knocked his dirk out of his grasp, he might have put me out of the way."

"Where did ye put him, though?" asked Tim.

"Around here," Tom said, pointing to a recumbent figure on the deck, with a handkerchief in his mouth and his hands and feet tied. The sailor rolled with the rise and fall of the ship and seemed most uncomfortable.

"The captain gave me a hand," Tom explained, "or else I would never have finished tying him up.

"Better keep an eye out," cautioned the mate. "Looks to me like they were going to make another try for the ladders."

"All right," the boys replied, and exchanging an encouraging slap on the back, they took up their positions.

"Holler, if you want to be saved agin," instructed Tim.

But Tom did not reply, for when he crouched down and peered at the shadow of the deckhouse, where the group was, there was something about their attitude, as nearly as he could make out, that indicated preparations for a concerted attack.

The repulse of the last assault had angered the mutineers, and they were now determined at all costs to overcome the little group on the after deck, and deal with them as they had planned.

Meanwhile, the captain had been steadily holding the ship on the shore tack, and he figured that by daylight they would be in sight of land.

The boys had not long to wait before the rush began. With a shout, the crew dashed along the deck, faltered for a moment as the three defenders fired at them, and then came on.

The boys and the mate seized another musket each, and fired once more, this time in their opponents' very faces. But those behind pushed their frightened and wounded comrades aside and started up the ladders. The larger party made for Tom, while just enough to make things interesting surged up and down the ladder that Tim and the mate were guarding. Had one of them left to aid Tom, the other would probably have been overpowered. So Tom had his hands full, and although he kept the leaders from gaining the deck, he was slowly tiring from his exertions, and he knew that before long the mutineers would have him overpowered.

Tom was growing dizzy, and the ceaseless swinging and thrusting with his musket was weakening, when from the forward hatch burst a fresh group of men shouting wildly and rushing for the rear of the mutineers. The attacking party turned to meet what they thought was a new foe, and Tom sank back against the cabin thoroughly exhausted.

"She's afire! Save yourselves!" the new arrivals were shouting. "She's afire! The hold is burning!"

The words came dimly to Tom's ears, and he dropped to the deck with a feeling that at last rest had come, and all was over.

But not for long. Tim and the mate came upon him lying there, and picking him up bodily, carried him to the rail. There the captain was working desperately over the boat on the davits, and the mate turned to help him. In a few moments they had the ropes loosed, and placing Tom in the bottom of the boat they all climbed in and lowered away. The dory struck the water, rose on the next wave, and was away from the ship. They pulled out the oars from under the seats, put them in place and rowed away. The sailors were rushing wildly about the decks seeking some means of escape.

"Great heavens!" ejaculated the captain. "That hold's full of powder. They'll all be blown to kingdom come!"

The little party were staggered by this sudden destruction that was overtaking their enemies, but there was nothing they could do, and they must save themselves. The rowers redoubled their efforts, and before they had gotten any great distance from the doomed vessel the waters were shaken with a great blast, and a pillar of flame shot up into the night, and the light showed the two halves of the ship split apart, with the balance of the sailors clinging to the wreckage and trying to climb aboard the floating skeleton of the wreck.