So saying I made a dash for the main-deck entrance of the saloon, which I locked, slipping the key into my pocket.  Then I followed the rest of the party up on to the poop, and bade them pull the two poop-ladders up after them.  The poop and topgallant forecastle thus formed two citadels, of a sort, capable of being pretty fairly defended, except in the face of an overwhelming force.