“And he was carried off on this ship from Boston.”
With a wild glare in his eyes, the captain regarded Frank as if he were some horrible apparition.
“That voice!” he muttered, rising.
“Do you recognize me?” asked the inventor, uncovering his face.
A yell of alarm escaped the captain when he saw who his caller was, and he recoiled a step, exclaiming:
“Ther feller wot I shot!”
“Yes,” assented Frank, as he whipped out a pistol and covered the wretch with it; “and if you utter a word to betray me to your crew, I’ll put a ball in your brain.”
“For God’s sake, don’t shoot!”
“Fall on your knees!”
“Yes, yes!” said Bolt, and down he went.