And then, in a flash, the better solution came to me.
All hands were asleep.

Why not creep aboard the _Ghost_,--well I knew the way to Wolf Larsen's bunk,--and kill him in his sleep?
After that--well, we would see.

But with him dead there was time and space in which to prepare to do other things; and besides, whatever new situation arose, it could not possibly be worse than the present one.
My knife was at my hip.

I returned to my hut for the shot-gun, made sure it was loaded, and went down to the _Ghost_.

With some difficulty, and at the expense of a wetting to the waist, I climbed aboard.