In the meantime, the second mate slipped down the gangway, and, standing on one side of Sullivan’s boat, capsized her. When she filled with water he cast her off and let her drift up-river. The tug-boat dropped down, the tow-rope was secured, the buoy cast off, and before midnight the ship was outside the Nobbies and under all sail. At daylight the “shanghaied” men were getting over the effects of the drug, and the captain called all hands aft to give them a good glass of grog. The new men were in a terrible state when they came to their senses and found they had been “shanghaied.” One young fellow, in particular, sat down on the hatch and, placing his head on his hands, seemed to give way to despair. He took no heed of what was going on, and spoke no word to anyone. The young Swede who had been so brutally struck by Sullivan stepped up to the captain. “Who brought us on board?” he asked. “Dan Sullivan,” replied the mate. “He said you were his boarders. I saw him come alongside, and then I went forward, and have not seen him since.” “Did you pay him any advance for us, captain?” “No; I have not seen him,” said the skipper. “He must have gone on shore again. I cannot understand it. I do not know the man,” added Captain Monk. “I wrote him to get me six men, and told him I would sign them on board. I heard him come alongside with you, and when I came out of my cabin I saw no boat alongside, and we got under way at once.” “Thank you, captain,” replied the Swede. “Sullivan and I will meet again some day.” “Halloa, halloa! What’s all that about?” rang out from the forecastle, accompanied by a heavy thumping. The mate started to run forward, and all hands turned, to behold a remarkable sight. Out of the forecastle bolted three men. Casting their eyes in the direction of the land they rushed aft, past the seamen, and were about to mount the poop-ladder, when the mate barred the way. “Get down out of this, you skunks!” he roared. “Who are you fellows, and where do you come from?” “You know jolly well who I am,” roared the biggest of the three. “And you had better land us as quick as you can, or it will be a bad job for you, so I tell you.” The mate looked at him in silence for a moment; then the skipper chimed in. “Who the deuce are you?” demanded Captain Monk; “and what are you doing aboard my ship?” “What are you trying to get at, captain?” cried the crimp, furiously. “You know very well I’m Dan Sullivan. I brought you six men last night, and when we took them into the forecastle--” There was a shuffle among the men, and the next minute the young Swede had sprung at Sullivan’s throat and the two were tossing about the deck battering each other like wild beasts. “Stand back, everybody!” cried the mate. “Let them have it out.”