“Are you there?”
“Yes, father.”
The boys exchanged glances.
“I—I think—Hah!”
The skipper was fast asleep.
The two lads remained silent for a few moments, watching the sleeper, and then Poole looked full in his companion’s eyes and slowly took out the revolver which he had thrust into his breast, before raising the hammer and bringing the cartridge-extractor to bear so that one after another the charges were thrust out, each to fall with a soft tap upon the cabin-table, after which the chambers were carefully wiped out, and the weapon put back into a holster close to the head of the berth, the cartridges being dropped into the little pouch attached to the belt.
When all was done, steadily watched by Fitz the while, Poole raised his eyes to his companion once again.
“Shall we do as you and father did just now?” he asked.
“Yes,” said Fitz slowly and sadly, “if you will.”
“Will?—Of course!”