"I put him in the brig to cool off. He's too hot-headed for his own
good."
"You had no right to lock him up, Mr. Lesher. You must let him out
at once."
"Git out of here, quick!" roared Lesher. "On deck, or I'll flog you
well!"
"Ye won't tech me!" cried Jerry, his temper rising. "I aint under
orders no more, mind that. Now you let him out, or I'll do it. You
was a fool to lock him up in the first place."
He moved toward the brig, but Lesher caught him by the arm.
"Let's teach this chap a lesson, too!" came from Baxter, and, like
a flash, he struck old Jerry in the back of the head. The first blow
was followed by a second, and down went the tar, the blood oozing
from one of his wounds.
"Don't hit him again!" cried Lesher hastily. "He's out already."
Baxter grew pale, thinking he had gone too far. But he soon discovered
that Jerry still breathed, and then he felt relieved.
It was decided by the pair that they should place old Jerry beside
Dick in the brig, and this was quickly done. Then they put into the
prison a bucket of drinking water and a can of ship's biscuits, and
another of baked beans.
"They won't starve on that," said Lesher. "And when they get out
they'll understand that I am as much of a master here as anybody."
"It serves Dick Rover right," said Baxter. "He's the kind that ought
to be kept under foot all the time."
CHAPTER XXII
A HEAVY TROPICAL STORM
"Those girls will ask some awkward questions, I reckon," said Jack
Lesher, as the two prepared to leave the wreck.
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