“Came down on an excursion, got left, and here I am. I’ll pay well if you’ll take me to New York.”
Capt. Horn pulled his beard and glared at Frank.
“What sort of an excursion?” he asked. “One of the regular kind from New York?”
“Of course,” answered Frank, thoughtlessly.
“You’re a liar!” said the man with the black beard, instantly. “Knew it all the time.”
“Thank you,” answered Frank. “You are polite.”
“I saw you on the small boat to-day,” said Capt. Horn. “You wanted to come on board then. How you ever succeeded in doing so now is more than I can tell, but you’ll be sorry for it. When you go back to New York the tide will take you there.”
“What are you going to do with me?”
“Feed you to ther fish, durn ye! It’s no use to ask you questions, for you’ll lie faster than I can ask ’em. Lies won’t do ye no good.”
“Sorry about that,” was Frank’s cool retort; “but it’ll save me a heap of trouble to invent ’em. Shan’t have to rack my brain to get ’em up.”