He was about to leave the tank-room when he heard a cry from somewhere down the passage. It was a startled cry, and it was followed by a sharp command that ended in an oath. His heart leaped into his mouth. Not an officer on the ship ever used profanity to the men. Besides, he'd have recognized the voice of any of the four officers. That command had been shouted by one of the men, and the cry that had preceded it had been one of surprise. Had the mutiny started already? As if in answer to his question, the sharp report of an automatic rang out suddenly through the passageway. Manool swung the door shut and ducked back as suddenly as if the bullet had been fired at him. He was beginning to tremble; he felt a smothering constriction of his throat, and yet, at the same time, an unreasoning thrill of excitement was rising within him. He felt an overpowering desire to see what was going on outside. For many minutes his caution overcame his curiosity, but at last the continual silence convinced him that, in all probability, the mutiny was over. So, ever so slowly, he stepped out into the corridor and started down. The hall where he had heard the shot proved to be quite empty, and he wondered where everybody was. This was certainly a queer mutiny, nothing like any he had ever read about. He trod more and more cautiously, and it dawned on him that this silence was more fearsome than tumult would have been. He was passing a store-room just then, and when he was just abreast of the door, it was flung suddenly open and there was one of the fuel-wrestlers, with a loaded automatic leveled at Manool's chest, and a spiteful look in his eyes. Manool's reaction was almost automatic. He threw up his hands and shouted, "Don't shoot." And from behind the fuel-wrestler, another voice--Gilligan's--said, "Let him alone, it's the farmer." Then it grew sharper as the mate snapped, "Get in here, Manool. What are you doin' wanderin' around in the halls? You want to get shot?" Manool was almost too scared to speak. "I was looking for you," he answered. "I think the fight is all over, so I look for you." "It ain't all over, by a dam' sight," Gilligan snarled. "You seen Doc Slade?" "I ain't seen nobody," Sarouk answered, truthfully. "I just came out of the farm and walked down here. I hear a shot, while ago." "That was when we took a pop at Slade. I think he must have had some suspicions, the way he acted. Now, look, Manool," the mate went on, "this stuff ain't exactly in your line. You better go back to the farm and lay low till I call you." Manool was still a little trembly from the scare he'd got when he saw the pistol pointed at his breast. He nodded enthusiastically at Gilligan's suggestion, darted to the door and, running down the corridor, he crept into the tank-room without another word. * * * * *