A few minutes later, the River Swallow had left the lights of Cardinal behind her and was shaping a swift, sure course for Piquetville.
“Wonder if Malvin suspects anything?” wondered Harry aloud to Ralph as he stood beside the young skipper in his accustomed place on the bridge.
“Blessed if I know,” was Ralph’s response as he twisted the wheel and made the fast craft meet a swirl of some small rapids they were passing through.
“You don’t appear to be worrying about it!”
“No, to tell you the truth, I’m not. So far as Malvin’s feelings are concerned, I don’t know and I don’t care.”
“But, Ralph, hasn’t it struck you that if they suspect our intention, they are likely to try to overpower us?”
“Well, I did think of that, too.”
“If they chose, they could make it hot for us. There’s not much doubt that Hawke is on board, concealed forward somewhere, and he is probably armed. So, probably, are the other two. We haven’t any weapons of any kind.”
“And we wouldn’t use them if we had,” rejoined Ralph. “I learned out west that the man who carries the most weapons is by no means the most formidable. A man, or a boy, who carries a pistol is a coward, and more than that, he is a dangerous coward.”
“Then you have no fear of Malvin trying reprisals?”