“Suppose we did make that island you are talking of,” said Captain Lawless, in tones that showed that the mate’s plan had made a deep impression on him, “how soon would that Dutch steamer be going by?”
Mate Durkee made a rapid mental calculation.
“I used to run on the line, so I know their schedule pretty well,” he said. “She should be going by by to-morrow night, at latest.”
“Humph! But you don’t seem to have taken the crew into consideration. What are we going to do with them?”
“Oh, give them some sort of song and dance and abandon them. They can live very well on the island till some vessel takes them off.”
This cold-blooded proposal seemed to banish Captain Lawless’ last lingering trace of hesitation.
“It’s a good plan,” he said, “but a daring one. Suppose it ever leaks out how we sold the schooner? There’ll be a clear case of barratry against us.”
“So far as that is concerned,” urged Durkee, “we can’t be much worse off than we are now, can we? That professor means to make things hot for us in the States. I saw that in his eye. We must take refuge somewhere, and Chile looks about as good to me as any place I can think of right now.”
“I don’t know but what you’re right,” agreed Lawless. “Let’s go below and look at the chart. How long ought it to be before we reach this island, if we get a good breeze?”
“Not more than eight hours. If the wind picks up, we should make a landfall before midnight.”