“Stop. Bring the boy here,” said the lieutenant.
Archy marched forward.
“Come here, boy,” he said importantly; and Ram followed him to where the little fat officer stood near the helm, frowning.
“Now, sir,” said the lieutenant, “I want you to answer me a few questions. What is your name—no, no, stop, you told me before. Where do you live?”
“Yonder, at the farm.”
“Oh! At the farm. Look here, boy, did you ever hear of smugglers?”
“What?”
“Did you ever hear of smugglers?”
“Yes, lots o’ times,” said Ram glibly. “They’re chaps that goes across to France and foreign countries, and brings shipfuls o’ things over here.”
“Yes, that’s right. Ever seen any about here?”