An open door by the side of the companion-way led into the hold. One end of it had been roughly prepared with berths, which were provided with bedding. There were six of these bunks, making sleeping accommodations for ten persons. An old carpet had been laid on the bottom of the hold, and Dory was willing to admit that the place was comfortable enough for a summer-cruise on the lake.
As the club consisted of only five persons, Dory could not imagine why the vessel had been fitted up, at some extra expense, for double that number. But he did not wait to indulge in any conjectures on the subject. The stanchions which had been put up to support the bunks, afforded what he was looking for; and the two prisoners could be fastened to them.
The robbers were conducted to this place. They were both under the influence of the beer, and had some difficulty in maintaining the centre of gravity over the base. They were sleepy and stupid, and Dory compelled his man to sit down with his back to the stanchion. In this position he made him fast, and the machinist did the same with the other.
Both of them said they were comfortable when the question was put to them. But they were so tipsy that they had no very definite ideas on any subject. They submitted with the best grace in the world, and even seemed to be pleased to find that all their responsibilities had come to a sudden end; for they were not in condition to attend to any thing.
"What has become of Angy?" asked one of them.
"He could not come on board again," replied Dory. "Who were the two fellows that went ashore on the hatches of the schooner?"
"Chuckworth and Mackwith," replied the one addressed.
"What is your name?"
"My name is Sangfraw."
"What is your name?" asked Mr. Jepson of the other.