Chapter Forty Six.
To cut and run.
The mate’s face lit up in a way that those who knew him had not seen for months.
“Well done, youngster!” he said, in quite a musical growl. “Splendid! Here, Poole Reed, you ought to have thought of that.”
“How could I?” said the lad. “I never learnt anything about breech-loading cannon.”
“No more you did, my boy,” said the skipper; “and we don’t want to take the honour from Mr Burnett. We shall have to do this, sir, but it will be risky work, and I don’t know what to say about letting you go.”
“Oh, I don’t think that there will be much risk, Captain Reed,” said Fitz nonchalantly. “It only means going very quietly in the dark. It would be done best from the dinghy, because it’s so small.”
“And how would you go to work?” said the skipper.