“Ain’t got any.”
“You won’t go back to the Moose?”
“Not much. Do you think I want to get killed? I tell you, Will, you don’t know what a brute the captain is.”
“Won’t they look for you?”
“Of course they will. They were down the street searching for me everywhere half an hour ago.”
“Who?”
“Captain Morris and two of the sailors in one party, and the mate and the boatswain in another.”
Will reflected. He had intended to obtain permission of his parents to allow Tom to sleep in the house that night, but if Captain Morris was looking for him it would be unsafe.
“If I can only keep out of the way until the Golden Moose sails, I shall be all right,” said Tom, confidently.
“Keep quiet, Tom; some one is coming,” whispered Will, warningly.