The young second mate left the cabin with Luke and both hurried toward the bow, where Semmel and Peterson were conversing in low tones.
"The captain wants to see you at once," said Larry to the bearded sailor.
His tone was so sharp it made Semmel start.
"Vat he vants?" he queried.
"Go and find out for yourself."
"Maybe you git me in droubles, hey?" and the bearded sailor scowled.
"I reckon as how you're gittin' yourself into trouble," drawled Luke, dryly.
"You keep your mouf shut!" cried Semmel. "I no talk to you, no!"
"The captain wants you to report; are you going to do so or not?" demanded Larry.
"Sure I go," answered Semmel, with a toss of his head, and he slouched toward the stern. His manner was so aggressive that Larry picked up a belaying pin before following him.
Captain Ponsberry had just appeared on deck. He had armed himself with a short club,—a sure sign to those who knew him that something unusual was in the wind. His face was stern and forbidding, and all hands gathered around to see what was the trouble.
"Semmel, I want to have a talk with you," he
