From the direction of the wheel there came a loud snore. The sailor had deliberately seated himself upon the deck in a comfortable position.

Jack stole up to the sleeping seaman and softly encircled his arms with the noose. Then he passed the lashing around his ankles and tied them firmly. This aroused the sleeper, who began to mumble protests. Instantly Jack slapped the plaster over his mouth. Then he dragged the man to the skylight and tumbled him down unceremoniously, and followed him into the cabin.

Frank and Hetherington held him while Jack removed the plaster and thrust him through the hole in the bulkhead. Just as Jack once more put his head through the skylight, there was the sound of a voice and Jack drew inside.

“Something queer on this ship, I tell you,” declared the leader. “First Pedro goes overboard and then Antonio follows him. Sebastian, you take the wheel.”

“Not me,” came the reply. “I’m not going overboard if I can help it. Take the wheel yourself.”

“Neither am I,” declared another voice.

A wrangle followed, with the result that the leader was forced to take the wheel. Looking out again, Jack saw that the man was peering out over the water. Softly he again dropped to the deck, and stole upon the unsuspecting leader.

A fierce struggle ensued. The Italian was a big man, and in spite of Jack’s strength and size, he put up a furious battle. The two rolled against the rail, there was a sharp crack and with a loud cry the leader suddenly went overboard. Jack jumped back to the skylight and crouched down; and it was not a moment too soon.

The other three men approached.

“He’s gone all right,” said one, gazing at the spot where the leader had stood a moment before.

“Yes, he’s gone,” said another. “I guess it will be our turn next.”

Suddenly a cry from the water drew their attention.

“It’s Ferdinand,” said one of the sailors, “and he is swimming.”

“What’s to be done?” demanded another. “We can’t let him drown like that.”

“No,” replied another. “Francisco and I will get out the boat and pull him in. You stay here,” turning to the third man.

“What!” came the reply. “Stay here by myself?”

“You do as I say. We have got to get Ferdinand.”

Suddenly Jack was struck with an idea. He was well aware of the superstitious nature of sailors, and he planned to play upon it. He descended to the cabin and from the wall took a suit of the captain’s oilskins. Then he went back on deck.

Two of the men had gone over the side in the small boat, and the remaining sailor was now engaged in hanging a lamp from the stern. Jack silently approached him.

Having secured the lamp, the sailor took a long look out over the sea and then turned toward the deck; and as his eyes fell on the tall, oil-skinned figure, he uttered a gasp of horror, and began to shuffle backward.

“The captain’s ghost!” he exclaimed in an awed voice.

Suddenly the sailor’s heels caught on a ringbolt and he staggered and fell on the deck with a howl of terror; but in another instant he had scrambled to his feet and rushed away forward, whence the slam of the forecastle scuttle announced his retirement to a place of safety.

More than half an hour elapsed before a hoarse hail from the sea heralded the return of the boat.

“Is all well?” came the cry. “Ferdinand is gone. We couldn’t find him.”

Jack stepped back into the shadow of the mainsail. Soon the heads of the two men appeared over the rail, and they swung themselves to the deck.

For one instant they stood as if petrified; then, with one accord, they stampeded forward, and once more the forecastle scuttle slammed. Jack followed, and, quietly thrusting a belaying pin through the staple of the scuttle, secured them in their retreat.

The mutiny was a thing of the past.

Then Jack made his way to the cabin, where he informed his two newly-made friends of the success of his endeavors, and the three went on deck.

“You’re all right,” Frank told Jack in great admiration, as the three gazed out over the water. “I had given up all hope of getting away alive. I don’t see how you ever managed it.”

“Nor I,” said Hetherington. “I know Frank and I couldn’t have done it together.”

Jack laughed modestly.

“A little thinking is all that’s necessary,” he replied.

“Well, you are quite a thinker,” said Frank; “but it strikes me you are something of a fighter besides.”

“What shall we do now?” broke in Hetherington.

“I suppose I had better get home,” replied Jack. “Besides, we are not far from there. You had both better come with me.”

“I want to get back to Naples,” declared Frank.

“And I must get to Nalut, Tripoli, at the earliest possible moment,” declared Hetherington.

“Nalut!” exclaimed Jack. “Why, we can’t be far from there now. It’s close to my home. I have been there several times.”

“You don’t mean it,” cried Hetherington. “Then I can get there from your place?”

“Easily, by camel. It is about a day’s journey.”

Hetherington turned to Frank.

“Why can’t you come with me?” he asked. “I’ll look after you. I expect to be back in England in a couple of weeks, and you can go with me. Then you can return to the United States.”

“But I wanted to get back to Naples and try and find my father.”

“You probably wouldn’t be able to find him now. The chances are he has returned home himself, hoping to find you there, as he has been unable to find you in more than a week.”

“I guess you are right,” replied Frank. “I’ll go with you.”

It was late the next afternoon when the schooner once more drew near the little African town in which Jack lived, and dropped anchor.

Jack called the prisoners from below.

“I don’t know why I should bother with you,” he said. “I know you are mutineers and should be dealt with severely, but I am not an executioner. Pay me my two pounds four,” he continued, turning to one of the men, “and we shall leave the ship. It’s not my ship and neither is it yours; but you can have it as far as I am concerned.”

“Yes,” said Frank. “We don’t need it any longer.”

One of the Italians ran hurriedly below. Returning he placed two bags of gold in Jack’s hand.

“Take this, signor,” he exclaimed. “We will have no luck unless we give you this gold.”

“No,” replied Jack, “all I want is what is due me.”

“Yes, yes; you must take it, signor,” cried all the Italians.

Jack thrust his hand into one of the canvas bags and brought out a handful of coins, from which he selected two. The others he returned to the bag, adding to them a couple of coins from his own pocket.

“Two shillings change,” he remarked.

He threw the bags down on deck and dropped himself into the small boat now lying alongside. The other two followed him.

But he had hardly taken his seat when two heavy thumps on the floor of the boat, followed by a jingling impact, announced the arrival of the two bags of gold.

“You must take the gold, signor. You must take it, else we shall have no luck.”

Jack stood up in the boat. Frank and Hetherington pulled on the oars.

“Pull,” Jack commanded, and the boat started away.

Aiming skillfully at the open gangway, Jack sent the heavy bags, one after the other, skimming along the deck.

One of the Italians grabbed them up and rushed to the gangway. But he was too late. The boat was twenty yards away, and leaping forward beneath the strokes of Frank and Hetherington.