“This won’t do, fellows,” exclaimed Captain Rich. “Crowd her heavy, Johnny.”
“She’s doing her very best now,” was the reply. “If you’ll make the breeze blow stronger, I’ll agree to make the sloop go faster.”
“We’re beating them badly,” continued the captain “but that don’t help us much, for as long as they are in sight, we can’t stop for our provisions.”
“Two men can’t capture us,” said the fighting member, who seemed to think that the only thing wanting to make their expedition a complete success, was a conflict with the schooner’s crew. “If you want to land on the island, why do it! Half a dozen of us will guard the vessel, while the others bring the cargo on board.”
“O, now, I’m not going to fight!” drawled Tom. “I never had a fight in my life.”
“You fellows ought to remember that we must go back to the village again, some time or another,” said Miller. “I don’t go in for a fight; for we have done mischief enough already, and much more than we shall want to stand punishment for. But, perhaps, we can fool those fellows some way.”
“That’s just what I was thinking of,” said Johnny. “The moon is going down, and it will be as dark as pitch in fifteen minutes; then we’ll see what we can do. Just leave this business to me, and I’ll insure our escape for a sixpence.”
Captain Rich had no objections to make to this arrangement, for he was quite willing that Johnny should assume the management of affairs. In fact, the third mate was the only one who seemed to know what ought to be done under the circumstances. Rich, Miller, and Tom, were officers only in name.
Thus far, the deserters had been congratulating themselves on having a bright moonlight night for their expedition; but now they were impatient for the moon to go down, and for darkness to hide them from their pursuers. In order to deceive the schooner’s crew, Johnny held on toward the island, gradually veering round as the sloop approached it, as if it was his intention to keep on out to sea; but, as soon as the darkness concealed their movements, he put the sloop about, and shaped her course toward the village. As the third mate had predicted, it was “pitch dark,” the only thing visible being the light which was now hoisted at the mast-head of the schooner, by which the deserters were enabled to judge pretty nearly what their pursuers were doing. Believing that the runaways had kept on around the island, they held on their course, and, in a few moments, the Swallow met and passed the schooner, going so close to her, that the runaways could hear the two men talking to each other. The deserters held their breath in suspense as they glided by, fearful that the noise of the waves washing against the Swallow’s sides would betray them. But their pursuers did not hear it, for they kept on around the island, and, when the light at the schooner’s mast-head disappeared in the darkness, every boy on board drew a long breath of relief. Their pursuers had been completely deceived as to their intended movements, and the coast was clear, so that they could land for their provisions.
“Hurrah for Harding!” exclaimed one of the crew. “If he hadn’t been here, we should have been in a nice fix.”