"I said I'd kill you all!" the mate shouted. "I'll take that back. I'll kill all but one!" The threat was easily understood. Captain Hamilton's face went white, and he glanced hastily at Ruth. But he only said: "Keep down out of sight, men. They know where we are, but we don't know where they are. They may try to rush us, but I don't think they will at first. Aim carefully and shoot at anything that offers a fair target, but don't waste the ammunition." He had hardly finished speaking before there came a volley, and the bullets pattered against the rocks. They came from several directions. Ditty had arranged his men in the form of a semicircle. They had ample cover, and the only chance for the besieged lay in the chance that one of the enemy should protrude his head or shoulder too far from behind his tree. Many times in the next hour the fusilade was repeated. It was plain that the mutineers were armed only with pistols. "Probably Ditty laid in a stock before he left New York," the captain muttered to Tyke. "Automatics, too." "His ammunition won't last long if he keeps wasting it this way," replied Tyke. "An' an automatic ain't always a sure shot." Just then a cry from Olsen showed that the mutineers' cartridges had not been wholly wasted. A bullet had caught the Swede in the shoulder. He dropped, groaning. Ruth was by his side in an instant. She bound up his wound as best she could, and, putting a coat beneath his head, made him as comfortable as possible. "One knocked out," muttered the captain. "I wonder who'll be the---- Ah! Good boy, Allen!" he cried delightedly. One of the enemy had thrown up his hands and, with a yell, had crashed heavily to the ground. He lay there without motion. "Leaned his head out a little too far," remarked Drew composedly. "That was the cockney, Bingo." "An' a dirty rat," Tyke said grimly. "That evens up the score." "Not exactly," replied Drew. "We'll have to pot two of them to every one they get, to keep the score straight. And they'll be more careful now about exposing themselves." He was right; for in the short moments of daylight that remained they lessened no further the number of their foes. Nor did any bullet find its billet in the body of any of the besieged. But one ball knocked a splinter from a rock and drove it against the knuckles of Binney's right hand, making it difficult for him to use his rifle. Now darkness fell, and the enemy seemed to have withdrawn. "The real fight will come to-morrow," prophesied Captain Hamilton. "This was only a skirmish to feel us out." "Do you think they'll try to do anything to-night?" asked Drew thoughtfully. "I don't believe so," was the reply; "but we'll post sentinels, and if they come they won't take us by surprise."