“Yes, sir.”

The conspirators descended, after Shuffles had admonished his shaky companion to be discreet.

“What are you doing in the top so long?” demanded Foster, the first master, as the truants reached the sheer-pole.

“Watching the sea, sir,” replied Shuffles.  “It looks fine from the top.”

“When you have done what you are sent aloft for, it is your duty to come down and report it,” added the officer.

Shuffles made no reply, as he probably would have done if he had not had a heavy operation on his hands, which prevented him from indulging in any side quarrels.

Except the wheelmen and the lookout, the watch on deck was divided into little groups, who were quartered in the most comfortable places they could find, telling stones, or discussing the exciting topic of the day.

“Shuffles, some of our fellows want to see you and Wilton,” said Adler, as the first master went below, to inspect the steerage, at two bells.

“What’s up?” demanded the conspirator.

“Don’t say anything,” added the messenger, as he led the way to the steerage skylight, under the lee of which Sanborn and Grimme had stowed themselves away, out of the reach of the stream that was flowing along the water-ways, and of the spray which was dashing over the weather bows.

The party from aloft, with the messenger, increased the group to five, which was the total number of “our fellows” that could be mustered in the first part of the port watch.

“What’s up?” demanded Shuffles, when he had seated himself by the skylight.

“We intend to pipe to mischief, to-night, Shuffles and we want some help from you,” said Sanborn, in reply.

“We have been robbed of our money, and we are going to have satisfaction, somehow or other,” added Grimme, in explanation.  “We are not going to stand this sort of thing.  We must teach Lowington and the professors that they can’t put our noses to the grindstone.”

“Exactly so!” exclaimed Shuffles.  “And you intend to put them there yourselves.  In other words, you mean to get into some scrape, and be punished for it, as I was.”

“No, we don’t.  We are going to work man-of-war style.  Old Peaks told us how to do it, when we were on watch last night,” replied Grimme.

“Peaks?”

“Yes, he spun us a yarn about man-of-war life, and told us how the men serve out the officers when they don’t behave themselves.”

“Peaks told you this—­did he?” demanded Shuffles.

“Of course he didn’t mean to have us do anything of the kind.”

“Well, how did he tell you to serve out the officers?”

“Make them uncomfortable; keep them in a hornet’s nest all the time.”

“How?  How?” asked Shuffles, impatiently.

“Why, if the unpopular officer went forward, a belaying pin was sure to drop on his head or his feet; a tar can or a paint pot would be upset on his back; or, if he went below, a cannon ball was liable to roll out of a shot case upon him.  Of course no one ever knew the author of this mischief.”