The Last Cruise of the Spitfire/Chapter 17
CHAPTER XVII.
IN A TIGHT FIX.
Captain Hannock's face was deadly white, and I knew he had taken in at a glance what I was doing.
"Looking for my letter," I replied, as calmly as I could.
"Are you?" He glared at me. "You're too smart, young man. I'll have to take you down a peg."
As he spoke he advanced upon me. I saw that he had a large wooden belaying pin in his hand, and I retreated as far as possible.
But he was between me and the door, and took good care not to go round the cabin table, so I was soon forced to stop simply because I could back no further.
"Don't you dare to touch me!" I cried.
He gave a hard laugh.
"I'll do just as I please. Lowell!"
There was no answer. The captain repeated the call in a louder tone, and presently the boatswain came hurrying down the stairs.
"What's up, Captain?"
"I've found him," replied Captain Hannock grimly. "Prying through my private papers!"
"What?"
"Jest so! Come, get some rope. We'll teach him a lesson he won't forget."
Lowell left the cabin at once. I wondered what the skipper of the Spitfire intended to do next. Was he going to flog me?
I was not prepared for what was to follow. In a moment Lowell returned with a quantity of stout rope.
"Now bind him well from head to foot," said the captain.
"No, you don't!" I cried.
"Yes, we do, my hearty," returned Lowell, and Captain Hannock shook the belaying pin in my face.
"Stand still, unless you want your head split open," he commanded. "I'll have you to understand your days of fooling are over. You've discovered our secret, but it sha'n't do you any good."
The boatswain sprang upon me, and the skipper of the Spitfire assisted him. I struggled, but soon found it of little use. The two were too many for me, and in a moment I was securely bound.
"Now open the trap, Lowell, and we'll chuck him down in the hold," exclaimed Captain Hannock.
"He may yell, Captain."
"That's so. Tie a cloth over his mouth."
The boatswain procured a towel, and stuffing part of it in my mouth fastened it around my neck.
Then a trap door in the cabin floor was opened, and I was lowered upon the cargo below.
"Now you can stay there till you come to your senses," observed Captain Hannock.
Then the trap was closed, and I was left to my fate.
Fortunately for me the distance I was dropped was not great or I might have been severely injured. I struck upon a packing-case and lay there helplessly. I overheard my captors move about the cabin for some time, and then all was quiet.
The gag in my mouth nearly choked me, but try my best I could not dislodge it. The ropes about my body, especially those that were tightened around my ankles, hurt me not a little, but all my efforts to loosen them only appeared to draw them closer, until, had I been able to do so, I would have cried out from pain.
As I have said once before, the darkness in the hold was intense, and try my best I could not see a thing. Had there been a light I might not have felt so bad, but as it was I felt next to hopeless.
I wondered what was going on above. I was not kept long in suspense, for presently there was a thump and I knew the Spitfire had reached the dock.
Then came the noise of many feet, as the schooner was tied up and the sails were lowered and made fast. At length this task was completed, and then all was quiet once more.
I wondered if Mr. Ranson had gone ashore without making any inquiries about me, and if so, if he would bring down the police or other officers of the law to arrest Captain Hannock and the others.
The time dragged by slowly, until I thought the entire day had passed. I grew hungry and thirsty, and at last chewed the bit of cloth in my mouth for pure consolation. Would no help come?
At length, when I had given up all hope of seeing any one, I heard a noise at the other end of the hold, and presently saw the dim rays of a candle moving slowly about.
"Foster, are you here?"
Instantly I recognized the voice of Tony Dibble, and my heart gave a bound. I tried to cry out to him, but could not.
But, though I could not cry, I could make a noise with my heels, and this I did with a right good will.
It did not take me long to attract the old sailor's attention. He stopped short, and held the candle over his head.
"Is it really you, Foster?" he asked.
"Rat, tat, tat," I replied with my heels.
"Where are you?" he went on.
"Rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat," was all I could answer.
"Gagged, I'll be bound," he muttered to himself; and at last found his way to my side.
It did not take him long to unfasten the gag, and that once out of my mouth I was able to breathe with some comfort, a thing which gave me no little satisfaction.
"Who did the job?" he asked, as he unloosed the ropes.
"The captain and Lowell," I replied. "They caught me in the cabin."
"I made up my mind something was wrong," went on Dibble. "I couldn't find you anywhere, and was pretty certain you wouldn't go ashore without letting me know."
"Where is Mr. Ranson?"
"Gone off to get the officers. Reckon we'll have lively times in an hour or two."
"Perhaps I'd better stay down here until he returns," I replied.
"You can do that unless you want to run the risk of sneaking ashore."
"I would like to do that if I can. Where is Captain Hannock?"
"Gone ashore."
"And Lowell?"
"On deck, and Crocker with him. They'd be almost sure to see you."
This was not very encouraging.
"I'll go up and have a peep around. I don't much like the idea of remaining in this close place any longer."
And with this remark I followed Dibble to the trap-door leading from the forecastle pantry.
We were soon in the forecastle, and then the old sailor went out on deck to see if the coast was clear.
He was gone but a few moments.
"It's no use," he whispered hurriedly. "The captain's just come back and is on deck, and Lowell is coming down here! You had better go back for a while."
"But if they find me untied?"
"They won't know but what you untied yourself. Come, hurry up!"
I followed Tony Dibble's advice. I had hardly entered the hold when Lowell appeared.
"Is Crocker here?" he asked.
"No, sir," replied Dibble.
"Better git on deck," went on the boatswain, as he turned and left again.
"Aye, aye, sir."
Tony Dibble followed him on deck, and I was once more left to myself.
Hardly five minutes passed before I heard a sound that filled me with alarm. The ropes holding the schooner fast to the dock were loosed, the sails were hoisted, and before I could realize it we were once more under way.
What did it mean? Had Captain Hannock smelt a mouse and thus sought to outwit Mr. Ranson? It certainly looked that way.