"There is not a bit of use," Ned replied. "The man is a crook, and is not acting for the government here."
"Then why these vessels?" asked Frank. "He must be a good deal of a wise crook if be sails about with a fleet like that."
"I rather think he is a good deal of a wise crook," Ned replied. "He's the man whom Jimmie saw mixing with the rebel chiefs."
"But look here," Frank insisted, "look at the blue coats unloading the boxes. They are in the service, for sure. This Lieutenant Carstens may be a crook, but he has a command in the United States navy, all right."
One of the men who was assisting the Lieutenant in the tally now called his attention to the prisoners and the Filipino boy standing by their side. He listened for a moment to what was said to him, then motioned for the Filipino boy to approach. The two talked for a moment in Spanish, and then the boy, evidently much against his will, was sent on board the ship.
In a few moments the Lieutenant turned to Ned, a smile of victory on his lips.
"Well," he said, "your career as a pirate has been brought to a sudden close."
"What do you mean by that?" demanded Ned.
The question was a natural one, but was entirely unnecessary, for the boy knew what was meant—knew on what desperate chance the lives of himself and his friends rested.
"I mean," answered the Lieutenant, "that you are under arrest for piracy on the high seas. Also for deliberate murder. Also for the larceny of the Manhattan from Manila."