Egg Island, so called from its oval shape, was situated about three miles from the cliff on which the fisherman’s cabin stood and probably did not comprise more than an acre of surface. It was rocky, partly covered with bushes and quite unoccupied.
Robert was puzzled, but did not venture to ask his uncle why they were going to this island.
In due time they reached the rocky isle and the boat was rounded to shore.
“You may jump out and get me a good-sized stick,” said the fisherman.
Robert obeyed, though he feared the stick was to be used on his back.
He had scarcely scrambled up the bank than he heard the sound of oars, and, looking back hastily, he saw his uncle pushing off from the island.
“I’m going to leave you here, you young rascal, till you agree to give me that money,” said John Trafton triumphantly. “I’ll let you know that I won’t be defied by a boy.”
Already the boat was several rods distant.
Robert sat down on a rocky ledge and tried to realize his position. He was a prisoner on Egg Island and there he must stay till his uncle chose to release him.