Chapter Four.
The Yankee’s Food.
“Grand, Mr Anderson,” said the captain, after a time. But his first words had come pouring out like a storm of blame, which gave the first lieutenant no opportunity to report what he had done. “Yes: could not be better sir. There, we are going to capture a slaver at last!”
“Yes, sir, if we have luck; and to stamp out one of the strongholds of the accursed trade.”
Then the captain became silent, and stood thoughtfully looking over the side at the indiarubber planter’s lugger.
“Humph!” he ejaculated, at last. “Rather a serious risk to run, to trust to this stranger and make him our guide.”
“So it struck me, sir, as I told you,” said the lieutenant.
“Let me see, Mr Anderson, did you tell me that?”