“You can’t mention one that I have not thought of and provided for. Try it.”
“Well, in the first place, suppose that Coulte declines to assist you in carrying out your plans? He likes Walter.”
“He likes his liberty better. If he refuses I will just say ‘law’ to him, and that will bring him to terms.”
“That’s so,” said Will, hesitatingly, as if he did not like to yield the point. “In the next place, suppose that Coulte agrees to comply with your demands and captures Walter, and the rest of the crew (I do not believe that Coulte’s two sons comprise the entire company of the smuggling vessel), refuse to take him to the West Indies; what then?”
“No one except Coulte and his sons need know anything about it. They can smuggle Walter on board at night, as if he were a bale of contraband goods, and keep him concealed until the vessel reaches its destination.”
“And then he will be set at liberty, and the first thing you know he will come back here a hero, and you and Coulte will find yourselves in hot water,” exclaimed Will. “That will be the upshot of the whole matter. I don’t like those boys any better than you do, and should be glad to see them brought up with a round turn; but this thing won’t work.”
“Don’t I tell you that one part of my plan is to lose him so that he will never find his way back here?” asked Bayard, angrily. “You are very dull, both of you.”
“I am not,” said Seth; “I understand it all, and begin to think that it will prove a complete success. I never could have studied up a scheme like that. It almost takes my breath away to think of it.”
“I know it will be successful,” said Bayard, confidently; “and if you will ride over to Coulte’s with me, I will convince you of it in less than a quarter of an hour after we get there.”
“What shall we do with Chase and Wilson?” asked Seth. “Are you going to take them into your confidence?”