Pete at once came down the ladder, and Don, who, during his sleep, had been bound so tightly with ropes that he could not move hand or foot, was carried to the deck and hoisted aboard the coaster. The mate, who came to the side at that moment, was informed, in response to his inquiries, that Don was a sailor-man, who had signed the articles all right and square, but had made up his mind, at the last moment, that he didn’t want to go to Havana.
“Tried to desert, did he?” said the mate, with a grim smile. “I’ll make him wish he hadn’t before this run is over. You didn’t knock him dead, did you? I see he’s got a fearful bump over his eye.”
Pete hastened to assure the mate that Don would be all right by the time his services were required on deck, and then he and Barr carried him into the cabin and tumbled him into one of the bunks.
CHAPTER XVII.
CONCLUSION.
Don’s senses were by this time pretty well restored, and he was able to think the situation over calmly. He had read enough to know that it is no uncommon thing for shipping agents, when seamen are scarce, to kidnap landsmen, and thrust them into a ship’s forecastle to do duty as sailors; and he knew, too, that these “shanghaied men,” as they are called, are sometimes absent for so long a period that their friends on shore mourn them as dead. But Don was well aware that he had not been kidnapped because sailors were scarce. He had heard Lester Brigham’s name mentioned in connection with some money that was to be paid to Barr, and he knew whom he had to thank for the trouble he had got into.
“But what have I done to Lester that he should take this way of being revenged upon me?” Don asked himself, in deep perplexity. “I am sure that I have always treated him as well as he would let me, and it is not my fault that I can’t be friends with him. But if he thinks he has seen the last of me, he will find that he is very much mistaken. I have been in many a tight place, first and last, but somehow I generally manage to get out not very much the worse for my experience.”
But his prospects for getting out of this scrape were not very bright, as Don found when he came to make the attempt to free himself from his bonds. Pete and Barr had done their work well, and with all his tugging and pulling the prisoner could not loosen the ropes in the least. After a few vain efforts he ceased his exertions, and waited with as much patience as he could to see what was going to happen. He could hear the footsteps of the crew above his head and the bumping of the bales and boxes as they were lowered into the hold, and he knew when the order was given to get the schooner under way. Then Don began to nerve himself for a desperate attempt at escape. If the captain ordered him on deck before the shores of Maryland were out of sight, he would do it at the risk of losing one of his crew. As it happened, he did do it before his vessel had left the pier a quarter of a mile behind. By the time he came down the ladder to release his captive, the latter had made up his mind just how to act.
“Well, my hearty,” said the skipper, who looked enough like Barr to be his brother, “are you ready to turn to now?”
“Ay ay, sir,” replied Don.
“I suppose you don’t remember of shipping aboard my vessel and signing the articles, do you?” continued the captain, who was surprised at Don’s prompt and sailor-like answer. He had looked for a storm of threats and protests, but he was not prepared for this ready surrender on the part of the shanghaied boy. It had just the effect upon him that Don intended it should have. It threw him off his guard, and rendered it comparatively easy for him to carry out the plans he had formed.