“We'll hang for this muss you got us into anyway, if we're ever caught,” growled the mate. “Ef you hadn't a-carried the girl off to be murdered we might have had enough ransom money to have got clear some way, but now you gone and cooked the whole goose fer the lot of us.” “You can collect ransom on me,” cried Divine, clutching at a straw. “I'll pay a hundred thousand myself the day you set me down in a civilized port, safe and free.” Ward laughed in his face. “You ain't got a cent, you four-flusher,” he cried. “Clinker put us next to that long before we sailed from Frisco.” “Clinker lies,” cried Divine. “He doesn't know anything about it--I'm rich.” “Wot's de use ob chewin' de rag 'bout all dis,” cried Blanco, seeing where he might square himself with Ward and Simms easily. “Does yo' take back all us sailormen, Mr. Ward, an' promise not t' punish none o' us, ef we swear to stick by yo' all in de future?” “Yes,” replied the mate. Blanco took a step toward Divine. “Den yo come along too as a prisoner, white man,” and the burly black grasped Divine by the scruff of the neck and forced him before him down the steep trail toward the cove, and so the mutineers returned to the command of Skipper Simms, and L. Cortwrite Divine went with them as a prisoner, charged with a crime the punishment for which has been death since men sailed the seas. CHAPTER XI. THE VILLAGE OF YOKA FOR several minutes Barbara Harding lay where she had collapsed after the keen short sword of the daimio had freed her from the menace of his lust. She was in a half-stupor that took cognizance only of a freezing terror and exhaustion. Presently, however, she became aware of her contact with the corpse beside her, and with a stifled cry she shrank away from it. Slowly the girl regained her self-control and with it came the realization of the extremity of her danger. She rose to a sitting posture and turned her wide eyes toward the doorway to the adjoining room--the women and children seemed yet wrapped in slumber. It was evident that the man's scream had not disturbed them. Barbara gained her feet and moved softly to the doorway. She wondered if she could cross the intervening space to the outer exit without detection. Once in the open she could flee to the jungle, and then there was a chance at least that she might find her way to the coast and Theriere. She gripped the short sword which she still held, and took a step into the larger room. One of the women turned and half roused from sleep. The girl shrank back into the darkness of the chamber she had just quitted. The woman sat up and looked around. Then she rose and threw some sticks upon the fire that burned at one side of the dwelling. She crossed to a shelf and took down a cooking utensil. Barbara saw that she was about to commence the preparation of breakfast.