I left my place at the ship’s side. I did not believe in the old shark superstition, and I had little respect for a creature that would follow a ship thirty-five hundred miles for table-scraps when he could get a fish dinner any time for the trouble of catching it. I did want to know about the men, though—why they had been taking in sail, and why they had quit and gathered in a group over the forecastle. Mr. Emory was talking to Captain Biffer when I came in. “They refuse to obey orders,” he was saying, “unless we turn around and put into Montevideo. They claim they need more clothing for the cold weather south. The sky looks rather queer, and I set them to reefing down so’s to be ready for one of those Pampeiros that Mr. Larkins says come up in a minute down here. When they got about half through, Frenchy stopped them. They’re out forward, now.” “Did you tell them we had plenty of warm clothing aboard?” asked Gale. “I told them. It isn’t the clothing. They simply want to desert the ship.” “Is Mr. Larkins on the bridge?” asked Captain Biffer. “He comes on at eight bells—in about five minutes, now.” “Very well; go back to the bridge, Mr. Emory, I’ll deal with this situation.” Then to Edith Gale “Don’t be alarmed, ma’am.” I risked a remark. “Is this your first strike, Captain?” I ventured. His eye fixed me grimly. “We don’t call it that at sea,” he said, “we call it mutiny!” The word rather startled me, but I followed him out on deck, as did the others. No one could remain in the cabin with a thing like that going on outside. The men were about as we had left them—the bosen, Frenchy, somewhat in front of the others. He was a villain and a traitor, but he was not without bravado. “We haf not been well treat!” he began, “we haf been deceive. We——” He paused. The Captain had drawn a bead on him with the eye he most frequently used on me. With the other he took aim at the group behind, and every man of them felt himself singled out, and quailed. I could see them beginning to shrink and wither even before he said a word. He began by gently reminding them of the usual lightness of their employment and the continued excellence of their bill-of-fare; then in good sooth he opened up. It was like the breaking loose at Manila. I had known that Biffer had a way with his English, but I never realized until that moment what he could do when he tried. They didn’t need any warm clothes, now. Everything he called them was red-hot and fitted as if they had grown to it. Why, they fairly shrivelled, and whenever anything he said hit the deck it smoked.