“You don’t know that man. There’s nothing he dare not do if he thinks there is money in it. But we shall soon know the truth,” said Enoch, in a trembling voice. “Here comes the Sallie!”
Jones and Lester looked up, and sure enough there was Egan’s cutter coming down before a brisk breeze, with all her canvas spread. There was something aggressive in the way she cut through the water, headed directly for the schooner, and Lester’s heart sank within him, while his head sank below the rail.
“I think myself that the best thing you can do is to keep out of sight,” said Enoch. “Egan wants to speak to us, and one glimpse of your face would betray you, as sure as you’re a foot high.”
Enoch’s face was a good deal whiter than it usually was, but he had the nerve to carry him through an ordeal that Lester could not have braved to save his life. He pretended to be at work at something about the windlass, and when the expected hail came he was ready to answer it.
CHAPTER XV.
A SWIM FOR LIBERTY.
“Firefly, there!” shouted Egan, from the deck of the cutter, which had been thrown up into the wind a short distance away.
“On board the Sallie!” replied Enoch.
“Did you see anything of Don Gordon yesterday?” continued Egan.
“I saw him with the rest of you, while you were preparing to get under way,” was the prompt reply. “But I haven’t seen him since.”
“Well, this bangs me,” said Egan, turning to his companions, all of whom were gathered about him in the standing-room. If Enoch had needed any further evidence to satisfy him that the duck-shooter had told nothing but the truth, he could have found it in their faces.