“Ah!” exclaimed Petit, “vat is your name?”
“My name’s Jack Stevenson. This cove’s name is Bill Stevenson. He’s my cousin.”
Tom gave Dave another look to impress this fact on his memory.
“I’ll tell you how it is, without any lies,” he volunteered, in a tone of utter confidence. “We borryed this boat off Bill’s father yesterday to come up the river a piece fishin,’ an’ we stayed out too late, an’ was caught in a fog. This mornin’ we started back, an’ we jist pulled in ’ere to look for figs—that’s a solemn fact. We ain’t been ’ere more than a half a hour at the outside. You kin ask ’im!”
Petit examined the boys, the boat, and the surroundings. He saw that they were telling lies.
His natural instinct told him also that they were terribly frightened, and his criminal method of reasoning put it down to the fact that they had committed some offence against the law.
It occurred to Petit’s mind that the boys might be useful to him. His grasp tightened on their shoulders till Tom winced with pain and Dave cried out.
Then, holding them firmly in front of him, he put his face up to them and said, in a terrible voice: “Eet is so; you have stolen zis boat!”
They were silent.
“For which,” he continued, “you air both liable to be put in ze prison!”