"Argument!" exclaimed Dunwody. "The answer is here at our feet—it's in blood."
"So be it then!" said the other solemnly. "If it means war, let it be war. I admit that we have a fugitive slave on board—a young woman—I suppose that was the excuse for your attack."
"It was the cause of it; and we intend to take her," answered Dunwody. "We didn't intend to use violence unless it was necessary. But as to you, will you take your boat below and out of this country?"
"I will not."
"Very well, then, we'll take you from your own boat, and we'll make her pay the penalty."
"By what right?"
"By the right of the long arm, since you insist."
"You would make us prisoners—without any process of law whatever!"
"You can thresh that out in your own courts later, if you like," said Dunwody. "Meantime, we'll see if I can't find a place that will hold you."
"Jamieson," he called out an instant later; "Clayton; come here.
Take the roll of these men," he went on. "If any of them want to
drop the thing at this point and go back, let them give parole.
They'll have to agree to leave and never come back here again."