Frank followed Mr. Gale to the quarter-deck. "What do you think of this?" asked the mate. "Shall we risk it?"
"By all means," answered Frank, quickly. "How would you and I feel if we were held captives by these heathen, and some of our own countrymen should come here, and, after learning our situation, go off without making an effort to help us? We may be able to rescue the captain or some of his men, if they are still alive."
Mr. Gale looked at his companion a little doubtfully.
"O, I mean it," said Frank, who knew what was passing in the officer's mind. "I have no reason to like Captain Barclay, and if I could once bring him before a court of justice he would suffer for what he has done. But this is a different thing. If I get the chance, I'll try just as hard to help him as I would to help you."
"Well, I suppose that is the right sort of feeling," said the mate, "but it isn't my style, I am free to say. A man who has the heart to turn a boat's crew adrift on the ocean, doesn't deserve any help when he's in difficulty. It's the others I want to work for, but here's the trouble: I don't know anything about this fighting business."
"I've had a little experience in it," said Frank, "and so have Lucas and Barton. They are old men-of-war's men, and I know you can depend on them. I'll give you all the help I can."
"Won't you boss the job?"
"No, I'd rather not. The men will yield you more prompt obedience."
"I know a story worth two of that, sir. I ain't blind or deaf, either."
After some more conversation it was decided that the Tycoon's crew could not leave the island with clear consciences unless they made some sort of a demonstration in favor of the captives, and Frank was finally prevailed upon to take command of the expedition. This being settled, the first thing the young sailor did was to call Chips aft. He and Mr. Gale spent an hour in conversation with him, and when the man went forward again Frank held in his hands a map of the island, on which the position of the fishing village, the situation of every hut in it, the shape of the jungle that surrounded it, and the location of all the paths that led to it were plainly marked. Frank also had a short consultation with Lucas, who, when it was over, made his way forward again, winking and nodding as he always did when he had anything on his mind. His companions tried hard to find out what had passed between him and the captain, as everybody called Frank now; but Lucas, while he seemed to grow in size under the pressure of the secret that had been committed to his keeping, remained as dumb as a tar-bucket.