“Certainly. Captain Foraker desires me to tell you that he wished the prisoner transferred to the Albatross. We know that you are not provided with an absolutely secure place to keep the prisoner, 201 and, as we are on our way to St. Andrews on another matter, the skipper thinks he might just as well take the fellow in and hand him over to the authorities.”
“Well, I don’t agree with your skipper,” snapped Burns. “I got Schofield, and I’m going to deliver him. He’s safe enough, don’t you worry. When you go back you can tell Captain Foraker that Schofield is in perfectly good hands.”
The pleasant, amiable manner of the subaltern underwent a quick change. He at once became the stern, businesslike representative of the government.
“I am sorry, Captain Burns, but I shall deliver no such message, and when I go back I shall have the criminal with me. Those are my orders, and I intend to carry them out.” He turned to the six sailors sitting quietly in the boat, their oars still in the air.
“Unship oars!” he commanded. The sweeps fell away, three on each side. “Squad on deck!” The men scrambled up the short ladder and lined up in two rows of three. At his belt each man carried a revolver and cutlasses swung at their sides.
“Now,” requested the officer amiably, “will you please lead me to the prisoner?”
Nat’s face darkened into a scowl of black rage, and he cursed under his breath. It was just his luck, 202 he told himself, that when he was about to triumph, some of these government loafers should come along and take the credit out of his hands.
For a moment he thought of resistance. All his crew were on deck, drawn by curiosity. But he saw they were vastly impressed by the discipline of the visitors and by their decidedly warlike appearance. If he resisted there would be blood spilt, and he did not like the thought of that. He finally admitted to himself that the young officer was only carrying out orders, and orders that were absolutely just.
“Well, come along!” he snarled ungraciously, and started forward. The officer spoke a word of command, and the squad marched after him as he, in turn, followed Nat.
Of all this Code had been ignorant, for the conversation had taken place too far aft for him to hear. His first warning was when the sailors marched past the window and Nat reluctantly opened the door of the old storeroom.