“Nor me!” said Tom. “Not without a gun, anyway.”
“Suppose he wakes up now,” said Dave, and shuddered.
Tom had taken the precaution to pick up the billy-can. There was a swamp in the centre of the island, which Petit had brought them to the evening before.
“We’ll say we went for a billy of water to bile tea for him,” replied the elder adventurer.
“What are we going to do?” asked Dave.
“Get away,” replied Tom, “as soon as we see a chance.”
“Why can’t we go now?” queried Dave, looking longingly across the bank of the river. “I ain’t never swum so far; but I’d as lief be drowned as stay here. What is he stayin’ here so quiet for?”
“He’s hidin’,” replied Tom, sagaciously. “He’s waitin’ here for a chance to escape. I say, did you notice the belt?”
“That canvas thing around his waist? I see the end of it stickin’ out when he stooped over the fire last night.”