"You the Captain o' this boat?" demanded Quincy, his eyes flaming green from the rage in his soul. "If you are, put me ashore, or I'll make you sweat!"
"Steady as you go," answered the Captain, quietly. "I'm too big a man to sweat. It's dangerous to make me sweat. What's on your mind?"
"Put us ashore!" yelled Benson, insanely. "Those fellows that hammered us just now said we shipped in this boat. We did not. We were drugged and abducted."
"Whew!" whistled the big skipper, turning his back on them for the moment. Then he turned back and said, "What d'you want?"
"To go ashore and take our prisoner with us. We'll settle between ourselves as to which one gets him."
"Your prisoner? Where is he?"
"That fellow standing there—steering, I suppose," answered Quincy.
The skipper turned toward Rogers. "You a prisoner?" he asked, with the good humor coming of size and self-confidence.
"I'm wanted, Sir," said Rogers, grimly, "in Arizona and in Manitoba. These men are what they say, officers of the law."
"What crime have you committed?"