“Do so.”
“Let him lie where he is.”
“Well?”
“He will die. We will forget all about him, find him dead and toss him over.”
“I’ve been thinking of that.”
Ike thought that if he were consulted and had his choice he would rather be drowned like a dog—much rather—than cruelly starved to death in that dark ship’s hold.
The hatch was replaced and our hero was alone, and he commenced to consider. He studied by feeling the chains which bound him, and he soon assured himself that he could get free at any time he saw fit. At the same time he decided that he must be very careful and not take advantage of his privilege too rashly.
“I will lay low until night,” he said.
It was a cold prospect for the poor lad to think of—lying there all day hungry and wounded, for his head did ache a little, owing to a blow he had received. He had discovered also that he had bled freely. The stain had not been washed off, and had dried on him, and he knew he presented a horrible sight.
“It may aid me,” he muttered, as he realized the fact, “to come the ghost act on ’em.”