"I'd rather be on the gun-deck than in this town," Phil replied with a shudder, and at that instant, just as we were turning a corner, we came face to face with Oliver Benson, the young Britisher who made a business of selling Yankee seamen to English whalers.
My first impulse was to run away, but before I could so much as move Master Hackett had leaped upon the villain, and then I would not have beat a retreat no matter what might have been the cost of remaining.
I joined the fray, for the Britisher immediately began to fight desperately; and during several moments the three of us had quite as much of a task as we could perform, for Benson was armed with a wicked looking knife, and knew right well how to use it.
But for Phil, the villain would have succeeded in stabbing Master Hackett in the back while the two were locked in each other's embrace; but once his weapon was taken from him, the scoundrel showed signs of submission.
"Don't give him a chance to play us any tricks," the old man said as he unknotted his neckerchief preparatory to binding Benson's hands behind his back; and I wondered greatly why we should burden ourselves with a prisoner in a town where, for aught we knew, he might have many friends or accomplices.
CHAPTER IV. AMONG THE WHALERS.
This taking a prisoner in a friendly port was, as I considered the matter for the moment, a serious affair, and without waiting to reflect I advised Master Hackett to let the fellow go free.
"He can't do us any more harm, and we'll warn others as to his scheme. There's no knowing how much of a row may be kicked up by our depriving him of his liberty."