The second mate, who still remained below--his place being taken by Bludson after a fashion--now led Ralph to the grated door where stood the loaded howitzer. The sentry was not there; another sign of the crew's demoralization. He had slipped into one of the store rooms, now left unlocked, to tap a water butt unseen, for all hands were on short water rations. When Duff and the boy halted, they could hear a sort of rasping sound from underneath like the boring or cutting of wood. "What is that?" asked Ralph. "Mischief," said the mate sententiously. "Those wretches in the hold are up to some trickery. These stupid sentries are too dull or careless to investigate. They are crazy for water in there, and it is my opinion they have got hold of something and are trying to cut a way out--God knows where!--perhaps through the bottom of the vessel." "Suppose you tell the captain." "He is that obstinate he'd simply curse me, and probably give no heed. But some one else might speak with better effect." "Do you think I had better?" Ralph spoke doubtfully, realizing that he also was no favorite with Gary. "You might bring it about in some way. I certainly owe Captain Gary no favors, yet I should hate to stand by and see those fiends cut their way out, and say nothing. They would murder every soul on board." Later on, Ralph found a chance to tell the captain what Duff had told him. Gary's scowl deepened. "Duff told you this, did he?" demanded the skipper suspiciously. "Out with the truth." Ralph acknowledged that the second mate was his informant. "Stuff! Haven't we a sentry there constantly?" "But the sentry isn't always at his post, so Mr. Duff says. He was away today when we heard the noises." "And you heard them, too! The mate tattling to the cabin boy, and both peaching on the poor sentry, who is, I dare say, more trusty than either one of you two. Go forward, and stay there until you are bidden back. Rank mutiny, by thunder!" Gary stamped his foot, more with the air of one demented than that of a sane and sober commander. Indeed the situation was sufficiently grave without this new complication. Several of the negroes had already died, and more were down helpless beneath the feet of their thirst-tortured but more able-bodied fellow sufferers. The howls and lamentations that continually ascended through the grating were trying to the nerves, aside from considerations of profit and loss. The combined effect on Gary was to render him more unreasonable and tyrannical than ever. Oh, for more wind! They were hardly up into the trades yet, and at that season, even the trades were uncertain. But it was certain that unless enough favorable wind did come, and come soon, they would hardly reach the Cape Verdes in time. Already crew, negroes and all, were down to one pint of water to the man every twenty-four hours. In that hot and stifling weather their tortures grew almost unbearable.