“Spriggs isn’t: so just keep your weather-eye wide open.” “Do you think he will attempt to whip me?” “Not he; he has got enough of that: but he’ll upset a pot of hot tea in your lap, or do some dirty trick of that sort.” “I’ll look out for him.” “Just keep right up stiff into the wind, and we’ll see you through if he attempts to fool you.” Jack paid no apparent attention to Spriggs, though he kept a close watch upon all his movements. When the hammocks were piped down at night, he observed that his enemy kept a sharp eye upon him, and he had no doubt he intended mischief. He mentioned his suspicions to Blinks, whose hammock was slung next to his own. “All right: he’s got your bearings, and he means to cut you down.” “I don’t see that I can help myself, unless I keep awake all night.” “Yes, you can: we’ll rig a dummy for you.” Blinks explained his plan; and, with the assistance of his other friends, they deposited four twenty-four-pound shot in Jack’s hammock. Another shot was slung over the hook, in such a manner that the ropeyarn which held it in position would be severed when the revengeful villain cut the lanyard of the hammock. Bob Rushington then stowed himself away under the lee of the mainmast, and Jack occupied his hammock. All these preparations had been very carefully conducted, so as to avoid the keen scrutiny of the master-at-arms and the ship’s corporals, who form the active police of a man-of-war; but it is more than probable that one of the latter officers knew all about the proceedings, and was quite willing that Spriggs should be “sarved out” in his own coin. The conspirators kept themselves wide awake, though they were careful to avoid an open breach of discipline. The lights were all put out, so that nothing could be seen; and silence reigned upon the decks of the Ohio, on which were berthed not less than a thousand men. Jack was nervous and expectant. Four bells--ten o’clock--struck; and he began to be very sleepy, and impatient for the trap to be sprung. At five bells, he began to think that he had mistaken the purpose of his malignant enemy; and he was just going to sleep, when down thundered the cannon-balls upon the deck, rolling off into the scuppers with a noise like the mutterings of a distant tempest. At the same time, a heavy groan saluted the ears of the aroused sleepers, as well as of the ingenious conspirators who had plotted and executed the mischief. “What’s the row?” demanded Blinks, as innocently as though he had just awakened from the slumber of innocence itself. “Who’s hurt?” “Oh, my foot!” groaned the sufferer, who appeared to be unable to retreat from his position. “What’s the matter with your foot?” asked Rushington, who had come forward from the mainmast to ascertain the issue of the plot. “It’s smashed to a jelly!” groaned Spriggs, whose tones were readily recognized by the occupants of the hammocks in the vicinity.