One of the men who started to eat noticed the taste and called attention to it while the rest waited suspiciously, remembering the affair of the flogging. Soon the fellow was nauseated and the men broke forth in a fury. The moke was haled forward. Gus, who had been seen talking to him, was also brought up. Then they were told to eat, and some of the mess food was placed before them. There were cries for Brown and myself and a gang of rascals came tumbling aft for us. Benson met them at the edge of the poop with his revolver drawn, and Johnson came up behind him with a double-barrelled gun. A tall fellow who was in Benson’s confidence stood near the after companionway and laid two pistols upon the deck within reach of both his hands. “What do you want?” asked Benson, sharply. “We want the mate and the young fellow,” said the spokesman of the gang, and the rest took up the cry. [Illustration: “‘WHEN I WANT YOU MEN TO COME AFT HERE TO HELP ME, I’LL SEND FOR YOU.’”] “Who will run this ship, then?” asked the leader, levelling his pistol at the man starting up the ladder to the poop. He spoke in a low, deep voice, but so distinctly that the fellow hesitated. “I’m running this vessel,” said Benson, “and when I want you men to come aft here to help me I’ll send for you. You’d hang the whole crowd of us if you had your way. Go back forward and if the grub is no good make the cook eat it--and then pick your own cook. Go back.” But the men were angry and hesitated. “Do you think Mr. Gore would try to poison you, you fools?” he continued. “What good would that do him? Can he run the ship alone?” Brown, who had turned in, having relieved me during the last watch, heard the rumpus and came on deck through the forward door of the cabin house. The men were standing there and surrounded him at once. It looked as though he would be roughly handled. Benson saw that some quick action must be made at once. He thrust his pistol in his belt and made a flying leap from the break of the poop, landing upon the heads of the men who had gripped the third mate. With immense power he swung them first this way and then that as the bunch rolled upon the deck. Then dragging two of them to their feet along with him, he shook them and shoved them forward. Johnson stood motionless with his gun ready and Brown climbed the ladder to the poop. In a moment Benson came back. “You see, Gore, what a mess a man can make of things,” he said, coolly. “I know you had nothing to do with the cook, or I’d make you eat some of the grub. Better go aft out of the way.” It was good advice, and Brown followed me to the taffrail. “It’s a pity,” I whispered, “that the moke didn’t use better judgment. If he had given a little less we might have had a chance.” “It has given Benson an idea at any rate,” said Brown. “You can look out for a pain in the stomach when we sight the land.”