Jordan smiled and shook his head. "And find a squad of bluejackets waiting for you? That's just what Motter would figure on, and there's a gunboat crawling round," he said.
"Are we going to sit down and do nothing?" asked Montreal.
"No," said Jordan with a little twinkle in his eyes. "Now, it's kind of difficult for a gunboat to be in two places at once, and while she's hanging round Motter's watching for us there's nothing to stop us walking right into the sealing post."
He stopped a moment, and looked straight at Montreal. "Well, now, that isn't in the deal you made to go sealing with me, but I heard they had a white man there."
There was a murmur of astonishment, and Montreal stood up quivering a little. "And," he said hoarsely, "you're going for him?"
Jordan nodded. "Oh, yes," he said. "If the boys are willing."
The answer was not effusive, but Jordan, who saw the little darker flush that crept into the bronzed faces and the slow clenching of a brown hand here and there, appeared contented. He knew that he had but to lead and the men would follow.
"Well," he said grimly, "if we've any kind of fortune we'll be there to-morrow."
He nodded to them, and when he went up the ladder Donegal gleefully thumped Montreal on the shoulder.
"It's you and me that's spoiling—just spoiling for to-morrow," he said, and made a run at Appleby who was grinning at him. "And you knew it and never told. Sure I saw ye kicking Mainsail Haul. It's me that would be caressing ye wid a rope end, me darling."