“Well, supposin’ he does claim the lad?” Joe Cushing replied hotly. “I’ve thought this thing over a good bit since Mr. Bradford left, an’ have made up my mind that, so far as I’m concerned, No. 8 is at liberty to stay with us if he says the word. What’s the reason he won’t make as much of a man while stoppin’ here as if he was in York State? I go in for tellin’ Andrew Foster that we haven’t got the time to run around huntin’ up his relations; but we count on keepin’ the boy who was given to us by the sea.”
“The rest of the crew wouldn’t agree to anything quite so strong as that,” Hardy suggested thoughtfully.
“What’s the reason they wouldn’t? Dick Sawyer, Henry Robbins, and Henderson said not half an hour ago that they’d back me in holdin’ on to the lad, never mind how many uncles flashed up.”
“What about Downey?”
“He wants to keep Benny with us, an’ would come out strong except that he’s afraid it will work the boy some harm in the future.”
“Was that why you wanted me to come out here?”
“Yes; I counted that you’d agree with us, an’ we might settle the question without waitin’ for what Mr. Bradford may pick up in the way of information.”
“I reckon it’ll be wiser to wait, Joe. There’s plenty of time to take a bold stand after we know whether Andrew Foster really wants the boy, or if he’s sayin’ so simply because he thinks folks will make queer talk if he don’t.”
Joe Cushing was by no means satisfied to follow this advice; but he could not persuade Sam Hardy to do as he had proposed, and the interview came to an end.
During the week which ensued the members of the crew talked often, one with another but not in a body, regarding what should be done in case Benny’s uncle demanded that the boy come to him, and the general opinion appeared to be that the decision ought by right to be left to No. 8 himself.