Part 27 (2/2)
”If there is anything wrong going on, it is your duty to tell of it.”
”O, you can't pump me; so it's no use to try,” replied John, walking away, and joining the princ.i.p.al conspirators in the forecastle.
”But what are you going to do with Paul?” were the first words that saluted his ears, as John joined them.
”I don't know. What can we do with him?” said Tom, to whom the question of the previous speaker had been addressed.
”Of course Paul won't join us,” added Frank.
”No; you might as well attempt to capture Fort Const.i.tution as to make him join us.”
”Are you sure we can't bring him over?”
”Don't say a word to him about it, or he will prevent us from going.”
”He can't do that.”
”He would find a way; he might jump overboard, and swim to one of these vessels and get a.s.sistance.”
”But we want Paul; and if we keep him on board, he will join us after a few hours.”
”You mustn't hurt him any way,” interposed John; ”if you are going to do anything of that sort, I shall let the cat out of the bag.”
”We won't hurt him,” replied Tom.
”I'll tell you what we will do. We will get him to go down into the cabin under some pretence, and then fasten him down,” said Frank.
”That will do first rate.”
”But d.i.c.k is on board too; what shall we do with him?”
”Fasten them both down below.”
Paul, from the frequent glances bestowed upon him by the plotters, was satisfied that he was the subject of their remarks; but this did not disturb him, for, firm in his purpose to do right, whatever might happen to him in consequence, he was prepared for any event which the conspirators might bring to pa.s.s. He was sorry to find that mischief was brewing at all, and pained to see his brother a consenting party to it.
CHAPTER XVIII.
PAUL IS MADE A PRISONER.
Before the half hour which the conspirators had indicated as the favorable time for carrying out their mysterious project had elapsed, Tom Nettle and Frank Thompson went below to prepare the way for the execution of their scheme. In the cook room, which occupied the fore part of the hold of the yacht, d.i.c.k was busily engaged in sc.r.a.ping potatoes. This seemed to be the favorite occupation of the steward, for he spent a large share of his time between meals in this employment; and fried potatoes was the standard dish for breakfast, dinner, and supper.
”I'm glad you come down, Tom; I want to use you a few moments,” said d.i.c.k, as the two boys entered the cook room.
”Well, what do you want, d.i.c.k?”
”I want you to help me move the stove; the pipe is loose; and if you will just hold it while I slide the stove back two or three inches, it will make it all right. Just hold the pipe up while I push the stove back.”
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