The ship-keeper was evidently waiting for Marcy to ask him about the proposition to which he had referred a moment before, but he waited in vain. It was no part of Marcy's plan to draw the conversation back into that channel. Tierney saw that he must take the initiative himself, and he did it very abruptly.
"Look here, pilot," said he. "There's no use in your mincing matters with me in this way. Just a moment," he added, seeing that the boy raised his hand as if he were about to speak. "I am a Union man all over, my pardner is another, and you are another. I know it as well as I know anything, and the old man knows it—I mean, he as good as said he had heard of it, too."
"Well, what of it?" inquired Marcy. "What did he hire me for, when he knows that it is in my power to run his schooner hard and fast aground if a ship of war gets after us?"
"But he doesn't quite believe all he has heard, and he's willing to give you a chance to prove that you are true blue," said Tierney, with an awkward attempt to undo the mischief he had done by talking too rapidly.
"I am true blue," replied Marcy, "although I confess that my actions just about this time do not show it," he added, to himself. "As long as I remain aboard that schooner I shall do my duty the best I know how."
"And will you take her out of harm's way if a ship of war heaves in sight?"
"I will if I can."
"Then it isn't of any use for me to say more, I suppose?"
"Not the slightest; that is, if you mean to propose that I shall join you in seizing the vessel for the purpose of giving her up to one of Uncle Sam's ships."
"I never said so," exclaimed Tierney. "I never said one single, solitary word that could lead you to think I meant any such thing."