In short, Will Atkins stubbornly stuck out for what he believed to be his rights, and the result was, that he very soon succeeded in exhausting all the patience of the chief, who backed him into a corner, and was about to reduce him to subjection, when Tom, who did not like to see any fighting, began to beg for him. The governor hesitated a moment, undecided whether to listen to the appeals of humanity or to follow the stern mandate of duty, and then released the culprit; not, however, without solemnly promising him that the very next time he dared oppose his chief, he would certainly suffer.
While the band remained in the cave, the fisher-boy's arms were left unbound, so that he could eat his supper; but as soon as the general business of the society had been transacted, the governor ordered Bob to get ready to be tied up again, and the band to adjourn to the yawl for the purpose of talking over some of their plans.
They did not want their prisoner to overhear them, and, as they were afraid to trust him outside of the cave, they were obliged to go out themselves. The chief appeared to be very much concerned about the comfort of the fisher-boy, for, when he saw how badly his arms were swollen, he tried a new way of confining them. He cut off about two feet of the rope, each end of which he made fast to the prisoner's arms, above the elbows, with a "round turn and two half hitches." This left Bob's hands and the lower part of his arms free—an advantage that he was quick to perceive, and which he determined to use, if an opportunity was offered. As soon as this operation was performed, Sam and his band left the cave, and for the next half hour an animated discussion was carried on outside the door. The fisher-boy, believing that some important plan was being talked over, listened with all his ears; but, to his disappointment, he could not catch a word of what was said, for the boys talked in whispers. Finally, the chief re-entered the cave, and, after examining the prisoner's bonds, he extinguished the lantern, and went out again. Bob heard a slight splashing in the water as the yawl moved away, and when he was sure that the band had left the vicinity of the cave, he straightened up and prepared to put into execution a plan for escape which he had thought over while the debate was going on at the door. Putting his hand into his pocket he pulled out a large jack-knife which he opened with his teeth, and in less time than it takes to write it, his arms were free. The work of releasing his legs was quite as quickly accomplished. A few rapid blows with the knife severed the rope with which they were confined, and then Bob slowly, and with great difficulty, raised himself to his feet. "Hold on there," said he to himself, as a loud growl from the dog gave him notice that every move he made was being closely watched, "I'll be ready for you in a very few minutes!"
But in this the fisher-boy was mistaken. His "few minutes" proved to be nearly half an hour; and even at the end of that time he had scarcely recovered the use of his legs. But delays were dangerous—perhaps he had already wasted too much time—and as soon as he could walk without leaning against the wall, he was ready to attend to the dog, which must be put out of the way before he could leave his prison. Bob did not intend to fight him in the dark, however, for that would give the animal too much advantage. He knew there was a box of matches on one of the shelves at the left hand of the door, for he had heard his jailers feeling around for it every time they came in, and his first hard work must be to find it. There was no danger of stumbling upon the dog in the darkness, for the animal kept up an incessant barking and growling, and thus Bob was able to keep out of his reach. He had no difficulty in finding the shelves, and after a few moments search, during which he several times stopped and listened, almost imagining that he heard his enemies returning, he placed his hand upon the box of matches. The next thing was the lantern. Securing that was a more difficult and dangerous task, for the chief had left it on the flour barrel, where he could not get at it without placing himself within reach of the dog. Bob lit one of the matches, and took a hurried survey of the cave. Directly in front of him was the dog, which was standing upon his hind legs, and jumping the full length of his chain in his efforts to reach the prisoner. Behind the dog was the flour barrel, on which stood the lantern. In one corner of the cave, opposite the door, was a pair of oars, either one of which was long enough to reach from where he stood to the flour barrel. By the time Bob made these observations the match was consumed. He lit another, and picked up one of the oars, which he extended toward the lantern, when the dog seized the blade in his teeth and literally smashed it in pieces. In return for the damage he had done, he received a blow over the head from the handle of the oar, which knocked him down. The fisher-boy hoped he had finished him; but before he had time to make any observations his match went out. A third was struck, and the dog was discovered upon his feet again, apparently as full of fight as ever; but when Bob stretched the oar out toward the lantern, he backed over against the door.
His first attempt to catch the handle of the lantern upon the end of the oar was a failure; so were the second and third, on account of the interference of the dog. The fourth, however, was successful; and after he had picked up the wick so that the lamp would give a strong light, he began to look about the cave for some more suitable weapon than the stump of the oar. A small hatchet, which was stowed away on one of the shelves caught his eye. That was just the thing he needed; and, after placing the lantern upon the shelf where it could not get knocked over during the struggle, Bob took the hatchet in his hand, rolled up his sleeves, and began the fight without ceremony. There was a little more barking and growling, a few desperate springs, a savage blow with the hatchet, then one or two convulsive kicks, and that was the end of it.
It was the end of Sam Barton's favorite, too. It had all been done in a moment, and the fisher-boy was glad indeed that it was so. Had the struggle been a protracted one, as he had expected it would be, the result might have been different. Not only was he totally unfit to sustain a lengthened contest, but he knew the necessity there was of getting out of the cave as soon as possible. He was unable to tell where the governor and his band had gone, or how soon they would return, and the quicker he left his prison the better would be his chances for escape; for, although the dog was out of the way, his freedom was by no means assured. Hastily extinguishing the lantern, the fisher-boy crept up close to the door and listened. All was still, and believing that the coast was clear, he removed the board and crawled cautiously out of the cave; but, just as his feet touched the ground, a pair of strong arms were thrown around his neck, and before he could think twice, he found himself flat on his back, with the governor, his man Friday, and Jack Spaniard on top of him.