“That your friend, Mr. Ready, is a prisoner on this steamer,” was the reply that brought an exclamation of amazement from Bill.
He was half-inclined to believe the man was delirious for an instant, but a moment later revised this opinion.
“How do you know this?” he asked, when he had recovered from his astonishment.
“I helped the plotters who put him there,” moaned the man. “They were Germans, like myself, and they told me that if he was not shut up he would betray them to the English authorities as soon as the ship docked. They gave me money and I let them have the key to a cabin far in the stern of the vessel. They forged a note to him and trapped him when, in answer to it, I led him to where they were waiting.”
“And he is there now?” cried Bill.
The man nodded slowly.
“So far as I know. They had screwed bolts on the door.”
“He was not hurt?” demanded Bill.
“Not seriously; but they struck him on the head.”
“The brutes,” cried Bill.