"But how are we to nap him?" said Plover.
"We've a good opportunity," replied Clifton; "the commander isn't on deck, the lieutenant is asleep in his cabin, and the fog's thick enough to stop Johnson seeing us."
"But where's the dog?" cried Pen.
"He's asleep near the coalhole," replied Clifton, "and if anybody wants——"
"I'll take charge of him," answered Pen furiously.
"Look out, Pen, he's got teeth that could snap an iron bar in two."
"If he moves I'll cut him open," cried Pen, taking his knife in one hand. He bounced in between decks, followed by Warren, who wanted to help him in his undertaking. They quickly came back, carrying the animal in their arms, strongly muzzled, with his paws bound tightly together. They had taken him by surprise whilst he slept, so that the unfortunate dog could not escape them.
"Hurrah for Pen!" cried Plover.
"What do you mean to do with him now you've got him?" asked Clifton.
"Why, drown him, and if ever he gets over it——" replied Pen, with a fearful smile of satisfaction.