“I think so—yes.”
“Then he also shipped with us in the hope of still getting his hands upon it, somehow. I’ll have Simpson clap the villain in irons.”
Ethan hastily laid his hand upon the captain’s arm.
“See,” said he, pointing to the after battery, where the tawny Lascar was busying himself rubbing down one of the six-pounders under the direction of the gunner’s mate, “there he is, now. And I hardly think he’s the prime mover in the matter.”
“No,” said John Paul Jones, “it does not seem likely. He is more apt to be a subtle, deft-handed instrument, used by a superior mind.”
“Would it not be wise,” suggested Ethan, “for you to hold your hand a bit longer; we might also be able to capture the master as well as the man.”
The commander patted him on the shoulder approvingly.
“Excellent,” said he, nodding his head. “That is just what we will do. The Lascar can be laid by the heels any time we choose to do it; it’s the mysterious fellow in the shadow that is the dangerous one. We will leave the trap open—and we will wait for him to show himself.”
CHAPTER V
HOW ETHAN CARLYLE FACED THE BULLY OF THE RANGER
The knowledge displayed by Ethan in the working of a ship during the first week out, and his ready courage in the taking of a couple of British prizes, won the regard of the Ranger’s tars, and he was ever a welcome visitor to the forecastle when he chose to go there. Many were the yarns they told him of voyages with Barry, Murray, Whipple and other hearts of oak; and many were those he told in return of strange seas, strange ports and stranger people.