As they slowly entered the harbor, the sound of hammers, axes, and calking mallets was heard from the northern cove. With eager curiosity the boys strove to make out the form of Peterson among some negroes driving oakum into the gar-board seams of a droger that lay aground upon the beach.
"There is no man there large enough for him," said Walter.
The schooner dropped her anchor in the cove, and the ship's company had the rest of the day—it being two hours before night—at their own disposal, as nothing could be done towards discharging till the negroes moved some sugar that occupied the wharf.
After supper they went ashore, and took a stroll over the plantation, hoping they might get some inkling of Peterson, but without making any inquiries, or manifesting any undue curiosity to excite suspicion, for all felt that they were treading on dangerous ground. They went among slaves employed in all sorts of work, calkers, coopers, carpenters, not daring to inquire, and, without obtaining any information, returned on board.
"Where do you suppose he can be?" said Ned. "We've looked everywhere."
"Perhaps they've carried him to some of his other plantations," said Lancaster.
"No, he's here," said Walter.
"Where is he, then?"
"Locked up. That was what that droger was sent off in such a hurry for,—that we put the frame aboard of, that was on the beach,—to tell the overseer that an American vessel was coming into the creek. Lemaire is not such a fool as not to know that a fellow as smart as Peterson would do his best to get aboard of her. He will probably be kept out of sight as long as we are here, and we must find where he's confined, and get at him."
"What puzzles me," said Dick, "is why so smart a nigger as you say he is hasn't got away before, and got aboard some vessel."