“Have you sighted land—a sail?” asked Joe.
Then both sailors saw the dangling ropes that held the boat from slipping—they saw Tom standing in a menacing attitude, and Mr. Skeel shrinking away.
“The boat—it’s almost overboard!” cried Joe.
“Did some accident happen, Tom?” asked Abe.
“No—not an accident. I’m sorry to have to say it, but he—this man—was about to cut it loose, and, I think, sail off in it,” replied our hero.
For a moment there was silence, and then Abe exclaimed with a deep breath:
“The scoundrel!”
“By Davy Jones!” cried Joe. “We ought to throw him overboard! Get forward!” he cried, holding back his anger as best he could. “You’ll berth forward after this, and we’ll not trust you any more. Get forward!”
Without a word Mr. Skeel obeyed, and then Joe and Abe, with the help of Tom, made the boat secure again. Little Jackie had not awakened.
“Here’s a piece of sail cloth, it’s more than you deserve,” growled Joe, as he tossed it to Mr. Skeel. “You won’t freeze, and you can sleep on that for the rest of the night. In the morning we’ll have a talk before we sail in the boat. We’ll decide then what’s best to be done.”