"I ain't sayin' nothin'. I'll take the seventy-five, cap'n."
"On this condition—that you take to my rowboat, row to land, and keep your mouths for ever shut."
"Take to a boat on a night like this!" exclaimed Ben in dismay. Now that he and Dare were on board the Mary they were not in a hurry to leave her until they had gained some idea as to her destination, and the exact location of the cache.
"Why not?"
"Why, before we knowed where we was the wind would blow us across the Bay and wreck us on Brunette."
"I'll give you a sail. By taking a straight course you can lie easy to Shagtown."
"But, cap'n," protested Ben, "that ain't no way to treat a man you've runned down."
"You can go in the boat or swim," burst out Pierre impatiently, and hurried on deck to consult his mate.
Ben and Dare, left alone in the cabin, stared at each other, not daring to speak their thoughts for fear of being overheard. They heard a brief vivid argument between Pierre and another on deck; then, before they could comment on it, Pierre returned to the cabin.
He was seriously put out now. The mate had vigorously protested against turning the two men adrift in the boat. And he had produced two good reasons why it should not be done. In the first place it was their only boat and they might need it themselves. In the second place, if the two men were turned adrift and later rowed into some harbour in a boat with the Mary Lee's name on it, there would be talk, whether the men promised to keep their mouths shut or not. Pierre could not deny the truth of this, and the mate won the day.