“Of course. The men that are missing are the worst of your lot—the ones that have caused you the most trouble in every way. There’s not a man from the ‘Flipper’s’ crew among them. The way I figure it out is that Daggett, Larkin, Hayes and Judson have made a plot to steal all the gold, and escape with it. They robbed you first, and then they robbed Sam, and when the boy tried to make a fuss they just kidnapped him and took him along with them.”
“How about the niggers?” asked the Major, sarcastically.
“That puzzles me, I’ll admit,” acknowledged my Uncle. “Bry and Nux may have seen the thieves get away with Sam, and followed after them, to try to rescue him. That’s the only way I can figure it out just now. But we’re losing time, Major. What’s to be done?”
“Two things. Get back the gold, and shoot down the robbers like dogs. They can’t get away, you know. They’re somewhere on this Island, and I mean to find them.”
“There’s the ship.”
“What of it?”
“If they get aboard and sail away we’ll be in a bad box.”
“How can they get aboard? We’ve got the small boats.”
“They can make a raft, or even swim out to the ship,” returned Uncle Naboth, shrewdly, “I tell you, Major, you’re wasting time. Why don’t you do something?”
The Major glanced at him as if undecided whether to be angry with him or not. But Mr. Perkins was undoubtedly right, and the miners were gathering outside the door with curses and threats against the men who had robbed them, for the news had quickly spread throughout the camp.