"I am not afraid of your threats. You can't do anything to me. Besides, you're Boy Scouts and you wouldn't harm me."
"Never mind about that just now," interrupted Jack. "We can protect ourselves even if we are Boy Scouts. You'll learn that."
"Sure he'll learn it," chimed in Tom. "He'd better not monkey too far with this crowd. We'll make him eat that meat."
"God idea," declared Jack. "Arnold, please start the coils and fry this chunk of meat for out friend. He's hungry."
With these words, Jack drew an automatic and displayed it for the benefit of the visitor. He had no intention of using the weapon, but felt it might have a salutary effect. In this he was right.
"I can't eat it," cried the boy. "It's poisoned."
"Ah, ha," gloated Jack. "I thought so."
"Oh, please let me go away," begged the lad. "I'll promise not to do anything against you again. I'll never bother you at all."
"We don't want to do anything rash," Frank suggested. "We won't harm you if you'll agree not to injure us, but we must know why you came aboard tonight as you did and what your purpose was."
"Wyckoff made me," groaned the boy covering his face with his hands. "There," he cried sitting up in bed, "now I've told, he'll kill me sure. Oh, I'm in trouble now."