“Come inside, me bye.”
He led Walter Grey into the turret.
The poor fellow was half frozen.
Our friends warmed him up, fed him, put fur clothing on him, and finally told him all about what had happened in Boston, and their subsequent search for him.
He was amazed at the story.
When it was finished, he said:
“I had a hard time of it aboard the Red Eric when I revived from the drug. Bolt made me work with the crew. There I got nothing but kicks and cuffs, poor fare and hard work. At the time they were looking for the whale I was towing astern mixing paint in a quarter boat. Ben Bolt appeared at the taffrail and cut the painter. I was left adrift. No attention was paid to my cries. The current carried me to where you found the boat. Thinking I might find some one on shore, I went up on the cliffs. A pack of wolves attacked me. I had a pistol which I found aboard the Red Eric, but it did little good. If you hadn’t arrived just in time, the beasts would have killed me.”
“Then Captain Ben Bolt deliberately cut you adrift?” asked Frank.
“Yes. More—he said, as he did it, ‘I’ve been waiting for this chance to put you out of the way, I won’t let it slip!’ That showed me that he thirsted for my life.”
“I’ll make him answer for his evil work!” declared Frank.