“By Jeehosophat, but that’s a notion! I reckon by the time he’s picked up, or drifts ashore, he’ll be sorry he interfered with us.”
“That’s a great scheme,” chuckled Zeb, equally delighted. “That’s what I call getting even in good shape.”
“Hold on a minute; how’s the tide?” murmured Daniels. “We don’t want him to be picked up too quick.”
“The tide’s running out, pop,” said Zeb, after a minute; “I tell you, though, what’s the matter with putting the barrel in that dory there and then loading him in it? We can row out a ways and then dump him overside.”
“That’s the best idea yet,” warmly approved his worthy parent; “come on, boys, tumble the barrel into that dory. Lively, now!”
The barrel, quite a big one, which had been used for salting down fish and was quite watertight, was lowered into the dory that Zeb’s sharp eyes had spied with some difficulty.
Frank had watched the movements of his captors as well as he could in the darkness; but he was quite unable to guess what all this meant, which, perhaps, was just as well. As the conversation had been carried on in whispers, he had not overheard a syllable of the rascally plan to set him adrift out of pure malice.
Still bound and gagged, he was lowered into the dory, unable to call out or move, despite the now serious alarm he felt. What could the men be going to do with him, he wondered, and was still busy speculating on his probable fate when Zeb and his father cast off the dory and, with rapid strokes, began to row toward the mouth of the harbor on which Bayhaven is situated.
CHAPTER XXI.—A RASCALLY TRICK.
While all this had been occurring on the wharf Plumbo Boggs had discovered the deception that had been practiced on him, and was hastening as fast as he could to the hotel. Even he, whose mind could not be called quick acting, realized that he was the victim of a trick, the object of which was, in all probability, to injure the Sea Eagle.