Jimmy took from his pocket a fragment of candle, and lighting it, placed it in one of the bottles, after which he awaited the coming of Bill, who had remained behind in order to hide the boat from view.
Josiah seated himself on the locker which ran across one end of the tiny apartment, and looked around wondering how the arrangements for any very elaborate feast could be made in that place.
It did not seem to him that the cabin was as appropriate an apartment for a gathering such as it was intended this should be, as many others which might have been selected.
The odor of bilge-water from the hold; the dust which covered every portion of the wood-work to the depth of at least half an inch; and the general air of decay everywhere apparent, caused him to feel gloomy rather than happy.
The remainder of the party, however, were not troubled with any such sentiments.
According to their ideas this was the jolliest kind of a place in which to spend a few hours, and Jimmy Skip regretted that the scheme had not been devised sufficiently early to admit of their making arrangements to remain at least one night in such a snug hiding-place.
“We could have done it jest as easy as not,” he said, “if we’d started in yesterday mornin’. Then when you fellers got back from Coney Island you mighter come right here, an’ we’d had supper ready. I wonder if your father wouldn’t stay over a day, Josiah, so’s to give us a chance of tryin’ the snap?”
“I don’t believe he would,” was the prompt reply, for Master Shindle had no desire to remain where he was any longer than should be absolutely necessary.
At the expiration of ten minutes Bill Foss returned, and announced with the air of one who brings important news:—
“I’ve got the boat now where she can’t be seen, no matter how many people are foolin’ ’round, an’ do you know I believe Sim an’ his gang are jest comin’ across! There’s a crowd leavin’ Pier Eight, an’ I’ll bet it’s them.”