Quickly he seized the paddle to shove off; but Darius thrust the muzzle of a musket in his very face, as he cried sharply:
"Pass up your painter, or I'll shoot! Quick, or your life is gone in another second!"
Elias Macomber was a coward, as we knew full well, but I never believed he would give in quite as readily as he did. He passed up the painter as meekly as any cooing dove, and when Darius ordered him to come over the rail, he made all haste to obey the command.
When we gathered around the cur, however, for all of us were so eager that we could not keep out of sight any longer, and he saw who had captured him, he let go a cry of anger that was like unto the whoof of a bear, as he struck out with both fists savagely.
He would have showed better sense had he taken matters with a bit more grace, for before he could land a blow on either of us, Darius floored him with the butt-end of the musket, and during a minute or two he laid like one dead.
"You struck too hard!" I cried in alarm, for even though the man was a traitor, it seemed terrible to take a human life.
"Not a bit of it," the old sailor said quietly as he set about lashing the fellow's arms and legs. "He ain't the kind that can be killed so easily. Get off the hatch, for we must have him out of sight before coming up to the mill."
"Pass up your painter, or I'll shoot!" Cried Darius. Page 56.