“And he seems to know you, too,” said Frank, as the prisoner, after running his eye over the vessel, nodded to the clerk, who smiled and bowed in return.
“Aw! yes; that is, I have often seen him working in the chain-gang ashore; but I want you to understand that I have nothing in common with him, nothing whatever.”
“I didn’t suppose you had,” answered Frank, astonished at the clerk’s earnest tone and manner. “What will your police do with him?”
“They’ll put him back in the gang again, but Lawd! what’s the use! He’ll soon escape; he always does. He’s been off the island no less than four times. Once he was half way to Hingland before it was found hout who he was.”
“Why don’t the police watch him closer?”
The clerk shrugged his shoulders as much as to say that he didn’t know, or didn’t care to trouble himself about the matter, and turned to meet the captain, who just then sprang on board. Arrangements were quickly made for removing the strangers, as everybody called the men who had been rescued from the wreck of the Sea Gull. The sailors were given into charge of the clerk, who ordered them into his boat and pushed off, after telling Frank that he would hear from him again very soon, and the convicts were turned over to the officers, who handcuffed them all, and took them ashore. The boys were glad to see them go, and Uncle Dick privately informed them that he considered himself fortunate in getting rid of Waters and his companions so easily. They were a desperate lot, if there was any faith to be put in the stories of their exploits which he had heard while he was ashore.
“That clerk told me that Waters belongs in the chain-gang,” said Frank. “How did he manage to escape?”
“Ask the police, and if you give them enough, perhaps they will tell you,” returned Uncle Dick.
“The police!” repeated Frank.
“Yes. A five-pound note will accomplish wonders sometimes. I know that less than that once bought off the policeman—or ‘man-hunter’ as we used to call him—who arrested me.”