Kneeling on the back of the prostrate Sim the young skipper placed the rifle so that the muzzle rested against the back of the fellow’s head.
“You see what will happen, if you make a move,” proposed the boy.
“I reckon I ain’t gwine to,” observed Sim, huskily.
“Wise man! Now——!”
Tom Halstead slipped a noose over those crossed hands. Then with the speed and skill of the sailor he rapidly crossed and wound, until he had Sim’s hands very securely fastened. The knots were cleverly made fast in place. Few people except sailors can tie knots the way this boy tied them.
“Now, lie quiet just long enough for me to put a mild tackle on your ankles,” admonished the young skipper.
When this was done he helped Sim to his feet.
“You can get into the boat, now,” suggested Halstead.
“See here, boy, yo’ can’t git far away from heah afo’ some o’ my men git after yo’. Take yo’ ole boat, an’ leave me heah. That’s the smartest way, I asshuah yo’.”