CHAPTER XVIII.
PAUL IS MADE A PRISONER.
Before the half hour which the conspirators had indicated as the favorable time for carrying out their mysterious project had elapsed, Tom Nettle and Frank Thompson went below to prepare the way for the execution of their scheme. In the cook room, which occupied the fore part of the hold of the yacht, Dick was busily engaged in scraping potatoes. This seemed to be the favorite occupation of the steward, for he spent a large share of his time between meals in this employment; and fried potatoes was the standard dish for breakfast, dinner, and supper.
"I'm glad you come down, Tom; I want to use you a few moments," said Dick, as the two boys entered the cook room.
"Well, what do you want, Dick?"
"I want you to help me move the stove; the pipe is loose; and if you will just hold it while I slide the stove back two or three inches, it will make it all right. Just hold the pipe up while I push the stove back."
"I have just cleaned up, Dick," replied Tom, who never hesitated at a white lie, and not often at a black one. "Paul is on deck, and in just the trim to do a job of that kind."
"No matter, then; I will call him," replied Dick; and the two boys presently returned to the deck.
"Just what we wanted," said Frank.