Chapter Fifteen.
A Difficult Task.
“Old Staples’ll serve me out for this,” cried Bob, merrily.
“Hallo! What’s the matter? Don’t stare in that solemn fashion.”
“I was looking at the schooner,” said Mark. “Mr Russell has so few men with him in case of a rising on the part of the blacks. He would be as good as helpless.”
“As bad, you mean,” cried Bob. “Oh, it’s all right. The niggers won’t rise. They’d better!”
This was said so importantly that the men began to laugh; and as Bob turned upon them sharply, they grew preternaturally serious.
“I say, look at Soup and Taters,” whispered Bob; “they’re as pleased as children to have a ride. I shall make two clever sailors out of them before I’ve done.”
Mark glanced at the two blacks, and saw that their faces were lit up as they rode over the glancing waters. Then turning to Bob,—