The mate took a step backward, and mumbled an apology. "Go on, Drew," ordered the captain. "When did you lose sight of Mr. Parmalee?" "I slipped on the deck and struck my head on the corner of the hatch-cover. Mr. Parmalee was with me at the time. I lost my senses from the blow, and when I came to, Parmalee wasn't there. I remember thinking it strange that he hadn't helped me when I fell, but I was dizzy and confused and soon forgot about it. If I thought of him at all, it was to suppose that he had gone to his room. I fully expected to see him at the breakfast table this morning, and I was as much surprised as you were when he didn't turn up." His story was told so frankly and simply that it carried conviction. But Ditty still had a card up his sleeve. He went over to the open companion-way. "Give me that cane, Bill," he called to a sailor standing at a little distance. The man obeyed, and a thrill went through the group as they recognized it as having belonged to Lester Parmalee. Ruth was making a strong effort for self-control. "Look at the blood-stains on this cane," said Ditty triumphantly, as he handed it over to the captain. There were, in truth, dark red stains on the end of the cane, standing out clearly in contrast with the light oak color of the stick itself. "That's where the cut on Mr. Drew's head come from, jest as I says," proclaimed Ditty. "And what's more," he went on, "there ain't any blood on the edge of the hatch cover." "No, there wouldn't be," muttered Tyke, "for the deck was washed down this morning, of course." "Do you own a pistol, Drew?" asked Captain Hamilton, after a painful pause. "Yes," admitted the accused man. "I have an automatic. It's in my stateroom now. But I haven't carried it since I came on board the ship. I didn't have it on me last night." The captain mused for a moment in evident perplexity. "Well," he said, rising to his feet, "that's all, Mr. Ditty. I'll think this over and figure out what it's best to do." "Ain't you goin' to put him in irons?" asked the mate truculently. "That's none of your business," snapped the master of the schooner. "I'm captain of this craft, and I'll do as I think best. You are relieved from duty for the present. Lord man! but you're a sight." Ditty wavered as though some impudent reply were forming on his tongue; but he thought better of it beneath the steady gaze of the captain's eyes and turned to go. He could not, however, forbear a parting shot. "You can see from the way he went at me what a savage temper he's got," he said. "He'd 've killed me if he could 've. And if he'd do that to me for what I said, what would 've stopped his doin' it to a man who had already hit him?" "That'll do, Mr. Ditty!" snapped the captain again. Tyke left no doubt as to where he stood. Out of respect for the captain, he had left the inquiry entirely in his hands, but now he hobbled over to Drew and clapped him vigorously on the shoulder.