"What's that, cap'n?" asked the governor, who at that moment came up, carrying a box of crackers on one arm, and a bundle of blankets under the other.
"It's coal-oil," replied Tom, with a chuckle. "I am going to make sure work of that yacht, if I succeed in getting into the galley. I'll sprinkle the contents of this bottle over the wood-work, and on the pile of kindling which I shall find under the stove; then I'll touch a match to it, and—whew!"
Tom ended the sentence with a prolonged whistle, and by throwing his arms about his head, indicating, no doubt, the rapidity with which the flames would spread over the devoted vessel.
"I have only one cause for uneasiness," said Tom, to himself, when the governor had gone on to the yawl. "This skiff is painted white, and can be seen a long distance, dark as it is. If we are discovered before we reach the yacht, my splendid idea is up stump; but if I can once get on board, and make my way into the galley without being seen, I'll be all right. Five minutes will do the work, and I won't care then if we are pursued. The fellows are all good oarsmen, and we can show that jolly-boat a clean pair of heels."
"Now, then," said the governor, picking up his lantern and peeping into every corner of the cabin, to make sure that nothing had been overlooked, "I reckon we're all ready. We're goin' to leave you here," he added, turning to the prisoner, who still lay bound and helpless on the floor.
"Well, I swan!" exclaimed Jed. "Aint you goin' to let me loose?"
"Not much. That would be a smart trick in us, wouldn't it, now?"
"I'll do some good hollering the minute you go away."
"All right. You will be discovered by your friends sometime durin' the day, most likely; but all the yellin' you can do won't help you none. The surf roars over the shoals loud enough to drown the report of a cannon. Good-by, Jed!"
"I'll see you again," said the prisoner, who did not seem to be at all concerned. "I'll help take you before the 'squire yet—I swan to man if I won't."