Without waiting for assistance, Captain Godfree sprang into the midst of them, knocking two down with the first rush and staggering two more. Three of the others shrank back before the captain’s powerful fists; but one big fellow stood his ground and whipped out a long knife. In a second, almost, one of the men who had been knocked down sprang to his feet and seized the captain from behind, while the big fellow in front, his face livid with rage and rum, raised his hand with the knife. Dick stood perhaps ten feet away, with the captain’s coat over his arm. He heard the two mates and the quartermaster coming, but before they could reach the spot the captain would be a dead man. He saw the gleam of the long knife. Without an instant’s hesitation he snatched an iron belaying-pin from its socket and sprang forward. Crash! crash! Two blows with that heavy club laid the knife-wielder helpless upon the deck. Next moment the two mates and the quartermaster were there, and the mutiny was ended. Dick was glad to see the man with the knife struggle as the mates put handcuffs on him; he was afraid he had killed him. “Sumner, I’ll always read the newspapers with greater respect after seeing what kind of fellows make them,” Captain Godfree said when they had retired to their cabin. “Whether it’s to manage a board of survey, to brave the yellow fever, or to knock out a drunken sailor, you’re on hand every time. If you’ll stay on board this ship, I’ll make a mate of you in short order.” “Oh, that would be a holiday!” Dick laughed. “I’ve got three hours of writing to do now, captain.” CHAPTER X. DICK MEETS A FIGHTING PREACHER. A whole week at home! That was the order when Dick reached the office after his Porto Rico trip. It was necessary to give him a chance to write what he had in mind. “The facts have got ’way ahead of me,” he said to the managing editor. “I don’t think I wasted any time, but there was so much to see that I couldn’t write fast enough.” He did not say that he had sat up writing half the night, sometimes all night, after a day of sight-seeing; but that was the truth. His Mexican letters were still running, and he had a thick batch of letters ready from Porto Rico; but there were many more to write, and he was told to stay at home for a week to catch up. “It’s the first real good chance I’ve had to see how you live here,” Dick said to his mother. “I’ve been kept so on the jump that the flat has been only a lodging-house for me, and not always even that. But think of a whole week! I’ll be at work at night when Darling comes home, and what talks we’ll have! And sometimes I can borrow time enough to take you and Florrie out to some place of amusement.” “I don’t care very much for amusements, Dick,” his mother answered; “and Florrie has been out a good deal lately; not in the evenings, but going to matinées.”