“It is my order that you come out!” added the captain sternly.
“I don’t know that I care for your orders. I have made up my mind to stay in this place only long enough to get even with that Dory Dornwood. When I have thrashed him within an inch of his life, I shall be ready to leave; and I shall leave, I want you to understand,” answered Oscar. “I don’t intend to be bossed by any little boy you may see fit to place over me.”
“I shall not argue the question with you: I told you to come out,” continued Captain Gildrock in very decided, though gentle, tones.
“And I told you I wouldn’t go out!” replied Oscar.
“You may bring him out, Mr. Brookbine, and take him up to the brig,” said the captain, as he took the lantern from the hand of the carpenter.
“You have brought that big bully, have you?” demanded the rebel, rising from his reclining position.
No one replied to this demand, but the carpenter
walked into the prison. Oscar was disposed to show fight. He retreated to a corner, and put himself in the attitude of defence. Suddenly, as if by impulse, the prisoner began to feel in his pockets; but the stout mechanic did not give him time enough to produce any thing. He took him by the collar of his coat, and lifted him off the floor. With his other hand, he jerked the hands of the prisoner out of his pockets. As he did so, a two-bladed knife dropped from one of them.
Possibly the sight of this article kindled the anger of the carpenter, for he began to bang the captive about in a manner that threatened serious bodily injury to the victim.
“Hold on to him, but don’t hurt him any more than may be necessary,” interposed Captain Gildrock. “We can cure him of his infirmity in a few days.”