Interested for the moment, Dick bent forward to look in the chest. As he did so, Lesher suddenly hit him a savage blow over the head with the butt of a pistol. The blow was a heavy one, and Dick fell like a log to the floor. "Oh!" came from Baxter. "Have you killed him?" "No; only knocked the senses out of him," answered Lesher, bending over his victim. "What did you do it for?" "To teach him a lesson. He shan't boss me, Baxter. Come, help me put him in the brig, and be quick, before Jerry comes back." They lifted up the insensible form and made their way to where the ship's brig was located, a dirty closet once used for oil and lanterns. Dick was thrown on the floor, and the mate shut the door on him and locked it. "Now he can stay there for a day or two," he snarled. "Reckon it will teach him a lesson." "What will you do with the sailor?" Before Lesher could answer old Jerry appeared. "Where is Dick Rover?" he asked. "None of your business," growled Jack Lesher. "See here, Tolman, are you going to obey me after this?" "I want to know where Dick is?" said old Jerry stubbornly. "I put him in the brig to cool off. He's too hot-headed for his own good." "You had no right to lock him up, Mr. Lesher. You must let him out at once." "Git out of here, quick!" roared Lesher. "On deck, or I'll flog you well!" "Ye won't tech me!" cried Jerry, his temper rising. "I aint under orders no more, mind that. Now you let him out, or I'll do it. You was a fool to lock him up in the first place." He moved toward the brig, but Lesher caught him by the arm. "Let's teach this chap a lesson, too!" came from Baxter, and, like a flash, he struck old Jerry in the back of the head. The first blow was followed by a second, and down went the tar, the blood oozing from one of his wounds. "Don't hit him again!" cried Lesher hastily. "He's out already." Baxter grew pale, thinking he had gone too far. But he soon discovered that Jerry still breathed, and then he felt relieved. It was decided by the pair that they should place old Jerry beside Dick in the brig, and this was quickly done. Then they put into the prison a bucket of drinking water and a can of ship's biscuits, and another of baked beans. "They won't starve on that," said Lesher. "And when they get out they'll understand that I am as much of a master here as anybody." "It serves Dick Rover right," said Baxter. "He's the kind that ought to be kept under foot all the time." CHAPTER XXII A HEAVY TROPICAL STORM "Those girls will ask some awkward questions, I reckon," said Jack Lesher, as the two prepared to leave the wreck. "We had better not say too much," answered Baxter. They were soon over the side and in the rowboat, which contained the bundle of clothing and a number of other articles. Then an idea struck the mate. "Wait; I am going back," he said, and disappeared on the deck one more.