“That’s right; you can keep him for the present. I shall want him by-and-by. What sort of lad is he?”
“I told you already, Long John, that he is about the pluckiest youngster I ever came across. To be honest, now,” continued Scrivener, “I didn’t like the job of taking that little game chap away a bit, and I hope—yes, I do—that he’ll soon have his liberty. I don’t hold with bringing up boys to our trade, that I don’t.”
“Nor do I,” said Simpkins. “It’s ⸺ hard,” he added, “and it don’t seem a bit fair to a straightforward fellow like Silver.”
“Silence!” said Piper. “Simpkins, when I want your opinion I’ll ask for it. The boy is not to have his liberty. I shall probably send him to America by-and-by.”
“To America!” cried Scrivener.
“Yes, why not? Am I your head, or am I not, men?”
“Of course you’re our head, Long John,” said a surly bulldog-looking man who stood near.
“Well, then, am I to direct proceedings, or am I not?”
“You are, you are, Piper,” said several.
“Let me hear no more grumbling, then. I propose to send the kid to America before long. The members of our School there will receive him with effusion, and the puppy can be brought up from tender years to walk in the way in which he should go. There’s only one thing now to be said, and it is this; that boy never returns to Rowton Heights. Should any member of this club be base enough to reveal his whereabouts, or even give the slightest hint to Adrian Rowton, he gets the black mark.”