And taking a seat close beside him, I whispered the story I had told to Mr. Hanson.
"Phew! Smash the anchor, but that's a great scheme!" he exclaimed. "I've heard of such things being done, but never thought the captain was such a great rascal!"
"We're going to stop the game. Do you know if we could get a look at any part of the cargo?"
Tony Dibble thought for a moment.
"Just the thing!" he cried. "Come with me."
He rose and led the way to the end of the forecastle. Here there was a small door leading to a pantry.
"There is a trap-door in that pantry," explained the old sailor. "The old man doesn't know of it. Some of the boys made it on the last trip, when we were carrying a lot of provisions, and the captain tried to cut down the rations. He saved one way but lost a good deal the other;" and the old sailor laughed at the memory of the affair.
It was an easy matter to raise the trap-door. The distance to the cargo stowed below was but a few feet, and I dropped down.
"Shall I go with you or stand guard?" asked Dibble.
"Better stand guard," I replied. "If any one comes get them out of the forecastle the best way you can. Have you a chisel or something like it?"
