“What shall we do with her after we get her?” inquired Jones.
“We’ll not do anything with her,” answered Enoch, glancing up at the sky. “We will let the elements take care of her. There is wind in those clouds, and plenty of it, too. It will be the easiest thing in the world to come down here in a small boat after dark and slip the chain, and I’ll bet there won’t be much left of the Sallie by the time morning comes.”
Jones was prompt to say that he would gladly lend a hand, but Lester, although he had often talked very glibly about doing something of this kind, in order to be revenged upon Egan for ignoring him and paying so much attention to Don and Bert Gordon, did not seem to be very enthusiastic. He felt a good deal as he did on the night he and the rest of the deserters from the academy ran away in the Sylph. It was easy enough to sit down and talk about such things, but when the time for action arrived, Lester was the first one to stand back and let somebody else do the work and take all the chances of detection and punishment.
“What do you say, Brigham?” demanded Enoch, after a little pause. “Are you in for it?”
“O, yes; of course; certainly,” answered Lester, with great apparent earnestness. “You can count on me every time. Didn’t I help you rescue those people from the Mystery at the time she was wrecked? Well, I will help you turn Egan’s cutter adrift this very night. I would like much to see his face, and hear what he will have to say when he comes out in the morning and finds his boat gone.”
“But you would not like to be within reach of his arm, if he thought you had anything to do with helping that boat to get adrift, would you?” asked Jones. “I know I wouldn’t, for a fellow who can knock down three or four men and boys, as Egan did during that fight with the rioters at Hamilton Creek bridge, is a good fellow to keep out of the way of.”
Enoch and Lester had no reply to make to these words of praise, bestowed upon the boy they so cordially hated; but they told themselves, as they had often done before, that they would give almost anything they possessed if they had showed a little more pluck during those troublous times.
The Firefly ran on to her moorings, and her captain proceeded to make everything snug in anticipation of the storm he had predicted. They went ashore in the canoe which they had left tied to the anchor buoy when they started out in the morning, and sat down to their late breakfast with appetites that enabled them to do full justice to it. They passed a few hours in roaming about the fields with their guns in their hands, popping away at everything in the shape of a bird that showed itself, and when the wind came up, driving before it blinding sheets of rain and sleet, they retreated to Enoch’s room, where they passed the time in reading and talking and watching the angry white-caps on the bay.
Although the force of the gale decreased when the sun went down, the white-caps still rolled wildly; but that did not in the least dampen the ardor of Enoch and his friend Jones, who were fully resolved that Gus Egan and his guests should not see any more pleasure in cruising about in the Sallie, if it were in their power to prevent it. They could scarcely restrain their impatience, so slowly did the hours drag themselves along; but darkness came at last, and Enoch gave the signal for action by picking up his hat and starting for the door.
“We could not have chosen a better night for the work,” said he, holding fast to his hat, which the wind seemed determined to tear from his head, in spite of all his efforts to keep it on. “Just let this breeze get a good grip on the Sallie, and she is a gone cutter. Gus thought he was seeing lots of fun to-day while he was helping those officers steal Barr’s gun, and now he will learn, by experience, how the loss of property affects a fellow.”