The group gathered there scowled at the lad with malevolent expressions, but none of them made a move to touch him. Perhaps they felt that he was so completely in their power now that it was no use hastening their revenge. Morello fairly gloated as he regarded the boy.
"Oh, this is luck," he exclaimed; "a bit of unheard-of good fortune. Here we are fleeing from the place from which you and your brats of companions drove us, and we actually pick you up off our bowsprit forty miles out at sea."
"The question is what are you going to do with me?" spoke up Nat boldly enough, though his heart sank direfully.
"Ah, that we have not yet decided," chuckled Morello, rubbing his hands; "but you must know that I am notable for avenging myself on those who have wronged me."
"Wronged you," burst out Nat. "I should think that having been driven from the Sierras, and your lawless ways terminated, that you would have decided that an honest life would be best, and——"
He stopped short as Ed. Dayton, unable to control himself any longer, made two swift steps toward the boy he hated, and, raising his hand, struck Nat a blow across the face before the lad had time to defend himself. But while the malicious grin still hovered on Dayton's face and he was still exclaiming:
"That's for the blow you gave me at Santa Barbara," Nat was upon him.
The cowardly bully was no match for the wiry, muscular lad, weakened by exposure and his wound, though the latter might be. Dayton came crashing down to the deck with Nat on the top of him before any of the others, who had been completely taken by surprise, could interfere.
The instant they recovered their senses the rascally crew hurled themselves upon Nat, beating and cuffing him. Kicks were not spared, either. It would have gone hard with the lad if Colonel Morello's voice had not suddenly struck in.
"Stop! Stop that instantly! Manuello! You, Larson; you, Britt and Hicks! Let that boy up!"