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I sure did an old shipmate," and he spoke the words slowly. "For instance who?" asked Captain Brisco, and the words seemed to come out like the closing of the jaws of a steel trap. "Oh er you wouldn't know if I told you," said Jack. "I guess I was mistaken," he added. "And I'm sure of it," Captain Brisco said, coolly. "I don't know many in these parts, for I've been away for some time.
They're not dependent on the wind as we are. They can travel any direction they like, and they'll have to head for us." "But we must make some effort to find them!" cried the manager. "It would be wicked criminal not to." "Look here!" cried Captain Brisco.
Alice noticed that the hand of the old salt trembled, though usually he was as steady as the proverbial surgeon. "Hum! Yes. One of the English revenue ships," remarked Captain Brisco. "It's the first one we've met down here." "It is a British vessel, isn't it?" asked Jack Jepson, and there was a queer strain in his voice. "Yes," replied his superior. "What of it?" "Oh, nothin' sir! Nothin'."
Then, before she could ask him what he meant, he gave her a warning glance, and passed on. Just as he did so, Captain Brisco came along the passage way. "I was just coming down to see how you were," he said, with a quick look at Alice. "I didn't know you were here, Miss DeVere," he continued, rather awkwardly. "Hope the accident didn't upset you."
"Don't let them take me, Captain!" the old sailor pleaded. "You know what it means. Don't let them take me away!" "I won't!" declared Captain Brisco, and for the moment the heart of Alice warmed to him. She fancied she had misjudged him. But as she looked at him, she saw a look on his face that made her doubt. It was a look that made his words seem insincere.
She's a small steamer, and she she's flying the British flag!" added the old man. A strange look of fear came over his face. "What's this?" demanded Captain Brisco, coming on deck just then. "What's up?" "Sail ho!" repeated Jack Jepson. "Over there, Captain!" and he pointed, and extended the telescope.
"Well, anyhow, we have fine weather for the start." The schooner was well out from the dock now, and the pilot was in charge, so there was nothing for Captain Brisco to do for the present. He had gone to his cabin, and the stranger, or, rather, Hen Lacomb, to give him the name bestowed on him, was with the commander.
I'm the chief owner of it, and I here and now depose you as captain, Mr. Brisco, and appoint Jack Jepson in your place!" There was a gasp of baffled rage from the former commander. "Jack, take charge," said Mr. Pertell. "Select as mates whoever you want. We'll go into this matter of the plot later. Just now we must save the ship if we can. Everything must give way to that. Do you accept?" "What!
They ought to be able to do it. You told me Dalwood could manage a boat." "So he can but " There was ominous meaning in the broken-off sentence. "Well, we'll do the best we can," concluded Captain Brisco. "They will have to take chances, as we're doing." He went forward to give some orders.
"That's good!" exclaimed Russ. "Mr. Pertell is anxious not to be delayed." "He won't be on my account," Captain Brisco assured the young operator. "A few more details, and we'll be ready for sea. About time, too, for this good weather won't hold any too long down among those West Indian islands." "Oh, are we going there?" asked Alice. "That will be delightful!"
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