"There aint no use at all in havin' one—not such a one as we've got. You've good cheek, Atkins. You tried to ruin the expedition by gettin' up a mutiny, an' now you're thinkin' how to steal this money from us, you an' Jack Spaniard are, an' yet you have the imperdence to ask me to let you take charge of it. Of all the things that have happened in the band since I got to be governor, this yere is the beat."
The two mutineers listened to this speech in amazement and alarm. It was all true, especially that portion of it which related to the plan they had in view for making off with the valise; but how did it come that the governor knew any thing about it? They were quite sure that neither of them had spoken a word to him or to any body else on the subject, and they were equally certain that no one had overheard any conversation between them. They opened their eyes, puffed out their cheeks, and looked at the governor and at each other as if they could not understand the matter.
"O, I knew you would deny it," said Sam, "but you needn't, 'cause I am sartin it's so. We've wasted time enough in jawin' now, an', as we've got to stay here all day, we might as well go to sleep. Xury, you can stand watch fur two hours. Keep your eyes on the schooner, an' call us if you hear any fuss."
The Crusoe men had resorted to the expedient of deserting their vessel in order to get rid of the robbers. It was a part of Atkins's plan. Sanders, when he awoke and discovered that his money was gone, would, of course, begin an immediate pursuit of the Crusoe band. He would not look for them in the vicinity of the vessel and on that side of the creek, but, believing that it would be their desire to get as far away with their plunder as the limits of the island would permit, he would most likely search the woods along the beach. The burglars could not go all over the island in one day's time, and there was little probability that they would discover the governor's hiding-place. He and his men would remain concealed in the bushes until dark, and then they would board their vessel and put out to sea, leaving the burglars, as they had intended to leave the Crusoe men—whistling for their money. Thus far the plan had worked smoothly, and the loyal members of the band were highly elated. The only question that troubled them was: Might not the robbers, suspecting the trick that had been played upon them, watch the vessel and capture them as they went on board? That was something that time only could determine.
Never before had the governor laid his head on a pillow worth so much money. It was not an easy one, but Sam had, of late, been accustomed to hard beds and hard pillows, and he slept soundly in spite of the new responsibilities resting upon him. The captain and Friday also soon forgot their troubles, but there was no sleep for the mutineers. They sat gazing sullenly at the governor and at Xury, who, if one might judge by his looks, had suddenly begun to sympathize with them in their rebellious mood. He appeared to be angry, and muttered something about being compelled to stand watch when he was so sleepy. He kept his eyes fastened upon the mutineers, who seemed to be rendered very uneasy by his scrutiny, and Jack Spaniard finally demanded:
"Did the governor tell you to watch us as well as the money?"
"Now, who told you that I was watching you?" asked Xury. "There aint no law in this band that hinders me from looking at you, is there? But you needn't be so short with me. I never done nothing to you that I know of."
"Didn't you help the governor capture us?"
"Yes, an' I would do it agin. You broke your promise by desertin' me an' the cap'n while we were in trouble, an' if you had been in my place you would have done just as I did. But this case is different."
Atkins and Jack Spaniard began to prick up their ears. The hint contained in the mate's last words, slight as it was, led them to believe that he also was becoming dissatisfied and was ready to join with them against the governor. But they were in no hurry to commit themselves.