Again the story was told, Bill Ferguson listening with deep interest. He scowled sourly when Jack finished. Then, of a sudden, a crafty look came into his eyes.
“Where is the motor boat now—tied fast to the schooner?”
“Tied fast to one of the other boats,” put in Ralph.
“Is your motor boat an old one?”
“No, she’s brand new,” answered the young commander of the Fancy.
He had scarcely spoken when he realized that he had made a mistake. A new sea-going motor boat is worth considerable money, and Ralph, as well as Jack, felt that Ferguson must realize this.
“You stay where you are. I’ll see what the men have to say myself,” said Bill Ferguson, presently, and strode to the rail.
The boys felt in anything but a comfortable position. They were outnumbered at least three to one, and all of the rum-runners seemed to be armed. More than this, as they were on the high seas, the captain of the schooner would be likely to do about as he pleased.
“Say, Ralph, can’t we jump on the motor boat somehow and get away?” whispered Gif.