“Mr. Mulliner, sir, you won’t see this cowardly thing done? You won’t leave that poor lad back there without a chance for his life?”

“I can’t help it, my boy, captain’s orders, sorry,” and the officer stepped into the wheelhouse to give the steersman his orders.

“It’s murder,” shouted Jack, “I’ll see that you suffer for it, Captain Briggs. It’s a black crime, it’s the work of a coward, it’s——”

A heavy hand fell on his shoulder. It was Captain Briggs. His face was aflame with indignation.

“Wadderyer mean, you young jackanapes,” he roared, beside himself with anger and the potations he had drunk, “Jenks, Andrews!”

The seamen who had been heaving the bucket stepped up. They stood waiting.

“Bind this young turkey cock hand and foot and lock him in his cabin,” thundered Captain Briggs, “he’s guilty of mutiny on the high seas, by Neptune. To-morrow I’ll see if there’s not a pair of irons on board that will fit him.”

“Do you mean that I am under arrest, captain?” stammered Jack, completely taken aback.

“I do, yes, sir, and it may go hard with you if I don’t change my mind,” yelled the captain furiously. “Take him away, you men, and I’ll hold you responsible for him.”

Jack saw red for a minute. He made a leap for the captain but the two sailors caught him.

“Easy there, young feller, easy,” one of them whispered, “we’ve no more use for him than you have, but going on this way ain’t goin’ ter get yer anything. Better come quietly.”

With a sigh that was half a sob Jack submitted to be bound and then half carried, half dragged, to his cabin. He heard the key turned in the lock. He was a prisoner. A wild idea crossed his mind of flashing out by wireless an account of his plight and the captain’s drunkenness.

The next instant it dawned upon him that he was powerless. He was a prisoner, bound hand and foot like a criminal. And where was Raynor? Dead, beyond the possibility of a doubt. He could not have lived more than a few moments in that icy sea. Jack groaned aloud in anguish as he strained and writhed at his bonds. His plight was quite forgotten in his anxiety over Raynor’s fate.

“Hist!”

The sibilant 

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