“Kidnapping!” said Vince cheerily. “Ah, to be sure, that’s the very word: I thought something had been done to us that there’s a proper word for. That’s it, Ladle—kidnapped. Yes, we’ve been kidnapped.—I say!”
“Well?”
“Look here: are we two chaps worth anything?”
“I don’t feel to be now,” said Mike; “I’m too miserable.”
“Well, so am I miserable enough, but I suppose we must be worth something, and that’s why the skipper’s going to feed us well.”
“What nonsense have you got in your head now?”
“Nonsense? I call it some sense. For that’s it, Ladle, as sure as you stand there; he has kidnapped us, and he’s going to take us right away somewhere. Ladle, old chap, I feel as sure of it as if he’d told us. It is all nonsense about making an end of us. I was sure it only meant trying to frighten us; but we’re two big, strong, healthy lads, and he’s going to take us right away.”
“Do you mean it? What for?”
Vince looked sadly at his companion in misfortune for a few moments, and then he said huskily,—
“To sell!”