He turned and raced after them.
The wireless house was their one hope.

There the sea would be at their backs, and the only approach for the mutineers in their rush would be up the ladders reaching from the deck below; the main cabin, on the other hand, had half a dozen places from which it could be assailed.
This had been instantly seen by the other officers, and when Harrigan reached the ladder to the deck at the other end of the cabin, he saw Salvain standing in front of the wireless house, Kate and McTee in the act of climbing the steps from the waist, and White Henshaw, with his hair blowing, following hard in their tracks.
Harrigan reached the waist at a leap, and in another moment joined the survivors in the shelter of the wireless house--Kate, McTee, Henshaw, Salvain, and Sloan, a party of six.

They were safe for the moment, for the mutineers would certainly never venture an attack against the wheelhouse, where they could be beaten from the ladders by the defendants, but they were safe without food, without water.
Then, as they stared hopelessly across the waist, they saw three men led across the rear promenade of the main cabin.

Their hands were tied behind them, and they were kicked forward by the mutineers, first Jacob Van Roos--they could note his pallor even at that distance--then Eric Borgson, scowling and defiant, and dragged along by the men of the forecastle; and last came Douglas Campbell, surrounded by the firemen.
Finally, Jerry Hovey shouted across the waist: "Black McTee! Oh, Black McTee!" The Scotchman raised his hand as a token that he heard.
"You're done for, McTee, you and all the rest.

You're bound to starve, and when you're weak, we'll come and carry you forward, and you'll die by inches as the other three are going to die; but if you want to live--you and the girl and all of you, give us White Henshaw to treat as he ought to be treated.