“Where are you going now, Louis?” demanded the captain, moving towards his involuntary passenger, doubtless believing that he had some hostile intention in his mind. “I am going into the other cabin to see my friends,” replied Louis with all the self-possession a young fellow could need under such trying circumstances. “No, you are not!” exclaimed the captain, his lips compressed, and his eyes glaring like the serpent he was. “Perhaps it is necessary for me to remind you that I command this vessel.” “Not at all necessary, Captain Scoble; I am fully aware of the fact, and I am perfectly willing that you should command her just as much as you please.” “Then you will remain in this cabin.” “Excuse me; you may command the vessel and the crew all you like, but I respectfully decline to be commanded,” added Louis. “Let me tell you that the passengers as well as the crew are under my orders.” “I am not in the humor for any more discussions; you may command as much as you please, and I shall not obey. I am a kidnapped prisoner, and hardly a passenger,” retorted the young man, as he opened the pantry door. “Stop, you young rascal!” stormed the captain. “Louis!” called his mother in a tone which assured him that she was already alarmed at the situation, though it was likely to be a great deal worse before it was any better. Whatever happened he could not turn a deaf ear to the call of his mother, and he started towards her. Scoble stood between him and her, and it was necessary to pass him. Beside the pantry door was a small stick of cord wood, not more than an inch in diameter, which the steward used to fasten the door back when he was at work on the dishes. Louis grasped it, for he did not care to take out his revolver in the presence of his mother if he could avoid it. Armed with this stick, which he used as a cane, he moved towards Mrs. Belgrave. He was quite ready to use it as a weapon if necessary, though he was not belligerent enough to do so unless the occasion absolutely required it. “What are you going to do with that stick, you young ruffian?” demanded Scoble, speaking in the imperative mood, as though he insisted upon an immediate answer. “I do not wish to do anything with it; but I have seen the time when I found it convenient to have a stick in my hand. For instance, when you attempted to rob Mr. Woolridge of the ten thousand dollars in his pocket, between your stable and the station, I should have been very glad to have a club in my hand, though it might have cost you a broken head. As it was, Flix and I fought the battle with our naked fists. I came off with your collar and necktie, which mother identified as yours, and I have them still as mementoes of the occasion. You will admit that a stick is sometimes a handy thing to have in your hand, and I thought I would be provided with one on the present occasion, if you do not object,” replied Louis, putting in a point not before touched upon.