"Right; you have said enough; clap a stopper on your jaw tackle," said Scott. "The ship is under way, and the officers are at their stations." Scott added that they had no time to spare, and the business must proceed at once. "Sail ho!" shouted the lookout, outside of the door. "Sail ho!" repeated the one on the inside. "Where away?" asked the C. B. "Alongside now," replied the I. L. M. "The name?" "Clyde Blacklock; and he wants to come on board." "Has he been instructed in the Rule of Three?" which meant the three clauses of the obligation. "Ay, ay, sir." "Let him in." The R. P. F. and the L. P. F. went out, and soon returned with Clyde Blacklock between them. On his head, and drawn entirely over it, was a white cap. A yard of cotton cloth had been purchased at Helsingfors, which had been sewed up like a meal bag. This was pulled down over the candidate's face, and the square end of it hung down in front of him, having upon it, in letters cut out of black cloth, and sewed upon the cotton, the mysterious device AT-VI., which, however, did not relate to "Plantation Bitters." "Hah! You have caught him!" exclaimed the C. B., in the most savage of tones. "Ay, ay, sir! We captured him outside, and in spite of his frantic struggles, have brought him before you to be examined," replied the R. P. F. "What is he?" demanded Scott, in gruff notes. "A vile Indian." "Hah!" "A 'ticklarly vile Indian." "When was he caught?" "At six." "Has he been searched?" "Not yet." "Does he confess?" "Not yet." "Clyde Blacklock, answer me truly," said Scott, solemnly. "Did you steal it?" "Answer him," said the candidate's conductor, in a low voice. "Steal what?" asked Clyde. "The bag out of which a faithless Brother of the Most Respectable Order of Bangwhangers let the cat," added the C. B., tragically. "No, I didn't." "Let him be searched!" continued Scott, in a sepulchral tone. Whereupon the officers, who had silently gathered around the candidate, began to punch him in the ribs, and under the ears, not to hurt, but only to tickle him. As Clyde was sensitive in this direction, as almost anybody would be when taken by surprise, the effect was very decided, and the candidate wriggled, and squirmed, and roared. "He has it I We have found it upon him!" said the R. P. F., suddenly. "Hah!" cried Scott. "The vile Indian is guilty." "Guilty!" responded all the other officers. "Does he see it?" demanded the C. B. "He don't see it." "Let him see it!" Then the R. P. F. and the L. P. F. seized the white cap by the corners, and jerked it violently from Clyde's head, and laid it on the floor before him, with the letters right side up to him. All the officers pointed at the cap, with the most extravagant expressions of surprise and indignation upon their faces. "Behold the bag!" exclaimed the group, in concert.