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 also gave his permission to have him kidnapped. The sailors grins and says no—that clever little detail was their own idea!

Actin' on the orders of Kid Roberts, Ptomaine switched the conversation back to food and kept it there, till fin'ly the hungry sailors has a whispered conference. Then they proposition us. If we'll give our words to act like gents and not start nothin' rash, they'll untie us—provided Ptomaine Joe goes to the galley and makes good his boasted ability as a cookin' fool! It took us about fifteen seconds to agree to that and it took Ptomaine about fifteen minutes to compose from odds and ends in the ship's kitchen a steamin' stew which seemed to go past the two seamen's wildest dreams! They tied into it like they'd been told it was their last meal that year, stuffin' themselves to the ears, whilst the Chinese cook stood by, mutterin' laundry tickets under his breath. He looked longin'ly at a big cleaver and then at Ptomaine, but that's as far as the Chink went with his thoughts!

The nourishment is no more than out of the way, when down comes the blood-thirsty mate and orders us up on deck. He frowned at our two scared watchmen when he seen we was untied, but said nothin'. Ptomaine wanted to rush the mate right then and there and lay him like a pavement, but Kid Roberts held him back, gently remindin' him that there was enough roughnecks aboard to get us sooner or later and besides this was his quarrel, not Ptomaine's.

Once on deck we're led to the stern where a large space had been cleared and is lined with sailors, eager