"It will—for Mr. Gray."
"And for us!"
"Not a bit of it! It will be as safe as falling on a haystack," argued the pilot with no little enthusiasm. "Give the order to carry out my plan, and I will proceed to business at once."
"Go ahead then, as you seem to have an idea," added Louis.
"I have a big idea. Now, Morris, you are the smallest fellow of the party, and I am going to put you through one of the windows, and drop you down on the deck," continued Scott in the briskest of tones.
"I can get out of the window without any help," replied Morris, who was glad to have a part in the proceedings.
"Any way you like, little fellow. I think the heave-line the Scotchman used to throw into the smugglers' boat is somewhere about the standing-room. I want that rope; and if you can't find that one, look up another, and pass it in through the window. Do you understand me?"
"Of course I do; you don't talk Spanish or Chinese," Morris responded as he leaped on the divan.
"Hold on a minute! Go around to this door in the standing-room, and if you find the key there, unlock it. I'll wager a rusty nail against a cold potato that Gray left the key in the door so that we could not pick the lock."
Morris sprang lightly into the open window, which was large enough to admit the passage of his body without any pinching. He looked forward, as the pilot warned him to do, and then lowered himself to the deck. The heave-line was lying on the planks beside the bulwark, and he passed the end of it to Scott, who was at the window watching his movements. It was immediately hauled into the cabin. Two minutes later Morris opened the door and walked in.