Shortly after she came to anchor there liberty was granted to the blue jackets, and then there was fun indeed around Mr. Wilbur’s house. A sailor always wants to ride when he comes ashore, and there were horses enough on the station to mount every one of them. Among the number were some wild young steeds which had never felt the weight of a saddle, and these were the ones that the blue jackets wanted to ride. Mr. Wilbur cheerfully gave his consent, and the ludicrous attempts at horse-breaking that followed were beyond our power to describe. The owner of the horses and his guests were kept in roars of laughter for hours at a time.
On the second day, to Frank’s great disgust, the consul’s clerk made his appearance. He was cordially greeted by Mr. Wilbur, who, after shaking him by the hand, turned to present him to the members of the Club. “There’s no need to do that,” said Fowler. “I know them all, and this gentleman,” he added, extending his forefinger to Frank, “I think I can claim as an old acquaintance.”
“Then it is all right, and I am glad you have come,” said Mr. Wilbur. “I will leave them in your charge to-day, while the captain and I ride into the country to see an old friend of ours who used to be in the mines with us. You are at home here, Gus, and you will understand that my house and everything in it, are at your service and theirs. If those sailors come on shore and ask for horses, give them as many as they want. It will probably be dark long before the captain and I return.”
The Club were not at all pleased with this arrangement, but they could not oppose it. They did not like Fowler, and wanted to see as little of him as possible. There was only one thing they could do, and that was to get out of sight and hearing of him. This they did as soon as Uncle Dick and Mr. Wilbur rode away, all except Frank, to whom the consul’s clerk stuck like a leech. Frank could not shake him off without being rude, and becoming utterly weary of his company at last, he excused himself, went on board the schooner, and lay down in his bunk. He did not intend to go to sleep, but the book he happened to pick up as he passed through the cabin proved to be rather dry reading, and before he knew it, he was in the land of dreams.
When he awoke it was with a start, and a presentiment that there was something wrong. As soon as his eyes were open, he saw by the flood of light that streamed in through the open transom over his door, that the lamps in the cabin were burning. Hardly able to believe that he had slept so long, Frank jumped from his bunk, and looked out at the bull’s eye. He could see nothing. Even the trees on the bank were concealed by the darkness. Just then the vessel gave a lurch, and laid over in the water as if she were heeling to the pressure of her canvas.
“What does that mean?” thought Frank. “She can’t be under way! She certainly is,” he added, a moment later, as the schooner began to rise and fall slowly and regularly as if she were passing over the waves. “Where are we going, I wonder?”
Frank turned and laid his hand upon the knob, but the door refused to open for him. He stooped down and looked at the lock, and saw that the bolt was thrown into the catch. He was fastened in. “Archie,” he thought (if any trick was played upon him he always laid the blame upon his cousin’s shoulders), “if I had you here for a minute, I believe I should be tempted to shake you.”
As Archie was not there, Frank shook the door instead, and listened to hear the footsteps of some one coming to release him; but there was no stir in the cabin to indicate that there was anybody there. Beyond a doubt the boys were sitting around the table almost bursting with laughter. Hardly able to refrain from laughing himself, Frank placed one foot on his bunk, laid hold of the lower part of the transom with his hands, and drew himself up until he could look over into the cabin. Yes, there was Archie, sitting in Uncle Dick’s easy chair, with his hands in his pockets, and looking up at his cousin in the most unconcerned manner possible. Frank was about to ask what he meant by locking him in after that fashion, when his eye chanced to light on another occupant of the cabin—a man who was seated on the other side of the table, opposite Archie. He was a low-browed, villainous-looking fellow, and in his high top-boots, red shirt, and slouch hat, reminded Frank of the descriptions he had read of robbers, smugglers, and such worthy characters. He sat with his elbow resting on the table, one hand supporting his chin, and the other grasping a huge revolver, which lay on the table in front of him.
“How are you?” said Archie, hooking his thumbs in the armholes of his vest, and nodding to his cousin.
“What does this mean?” demanded Frank. “Who locked me in here, and why is the schooner underway? Where’s Uncle Dick?”