With these words he walked off, followed by his companions. The boys looked first at him, then at the captain and finally at Dick Lewis, who stood the very picture of astonishment. "Why didn't you set the law a-goin'?" the trapper managed to ask at last.
"It would have been of no use," answered the master of the schooner. "Didn't you hear what that man on the dock said? That indicated the defence they would bring up. We would find a court-room full of witnesses to prove an alibi—that is, that this man was somewhere else when the kidnapping was done."
"But it wouldn't be true, Uncle Dick," said Archie, who, like all the rest of the Club, invariably addressed the old sailor by this affectionate title. "If they swore to that, they would be guilty of perjury, and that is a state prison offence. Dick has told the truth."
"I know it. I am just as certain that everything he has described to us really happened, as I would be had I seen it all with my own eyes; but a justice would not take his unsupported word against that of a dozen men. And as for perjury, how would you fasten the crime upon these false witnesses that would be produced? If Frank, Lucas and Barton were here, we would have the game in our own hands; but they are miles away. This man knows we can prove nothing, and that is what makes him so impudent."
"I wish you had told Rodgers to throw him overboard, or else let Dick knock him down," said Eugene.
"And afterward had the satisfaction of paying a fine and costs," said the old sailor, with a laugh. "By the time your hair is as white as mine, Eugene, perhaps you will have learned something. I've got one fine to pay now."
"Why, how is that?" asked all the boys at once.
"Didn't you hear what that man said just as he went away? There'll be a policeman down here directly."
The boys looked toward the trapper. The expression of alarm which they had so often seen of late, had settled on his face again. He backed up against the rail for support, and looked wildly about as if he had half a mind to take to his heels. He stood more in fear of the law than he did of a grizzly bear. He had always thought that there was something wrong about it, and now he was firmly convinced of the fact. The law, as he understood it, was to restrain bad people, who were disposed to take advantage of their neighbors whenever an opportunity was offered; but he found that it was likely to prove a means of punishment to the innocent. It would have been just as impossible to give him a clear idea of its workings, as it would to make him understand the causes of the trade-winds or the theory of the ocean-currents.