“If I were in your place, I would make that captain smart for this night’s work,” Jones remarked.
It was right on the point of Don’s tongue to answer that he couldn’t do it without making others smart also; but he caught his breath in time, and said:
“It would be too much bother. By the time he gets back, I hope to be in Mississippi; and if I should have him arrested, I should have to come all the way to Maryland to testify against him. By the way, what did Pete mean, when he said that if the captain didn’t take me, there would be no one to pick up his cigars when he returned?”
“Aha!” exclaimed Enoch. “So Barr is in that business, is he? I’ll tell you what he meant: Barr’s family and Pete’s live in Havre de Grace, but the men themselves spend the most of their time in a little shanty down here on the beach. When that schooner returns from Cuba, she will make it a point to pass that shanty in the night, even if she has to lie over somewhere, in order to do it. When she goes by, the captain will throw overboard a few thousand cigars, done up in water-proof packages, and Barr and his partner will take charge of them until the skipper sees a chance to sell them without paying the duty.”
“Oh, he’s a smuggler in a small way, is he? Well, who was that darkey whose dogs were so determined to make a meal of me?”
“He’s a petty thief—a robber of hen-roosts and smoke-houses, and there are those who believe that he has been guilty of worse things than that. But if he found your gun he will give it up. He wouldn’t dare keep it.”
Don drew a long breath of relief when he heard this. He had been mourning over the loss of the weapon, ever since he came to his senses. He would not have parted with it for many times its value, for he was too fond of the father who gave it to him.
When Enoch had run so far up the bay that he thought there was no more danger to be apprehended from the coaster, he came about and laid a course for Mr. Egan’s house, off which he arrived just as the first gray streaks of dawn were seen in the east. Early as it was, Egan and the rest were astir. They had passed a sleepless night, and were making ready to start out in the Sallie to resume their search for Don Gordon. The actions of the Firefly, which came toward her with all sails set as if she meant to run the cutter down, attracted their attention, and Egan, with some nervousness in his manner, turned his glass upon her. He held it to his eyes for a moment, and then threw his hat up toward the cross-trees and uttered a deafening whoop.
“Didn’t I tell you that if Enoch found him he would stay by him?” he shouted, gleefully. “Don has certainly been somewhere, for he has Enoch’s coat and hat on.”
The glass was passed rapidly from hand to hand, and the rescued boy, after returning Egan’s welcoming yell with interest, stood with his hat by his side, striking what Curtis called “stunning attitudes,” so that all his friends had a different view of him. His long swim had not washed any of his love of fun out of him.