"We are not going to do anything with him. Major Billcord wants to see him, and we promised to take him over to Sandy Point for him," answered the chief ruffian.
"Oh, that's all, is it?" added the skipper. "What is the major going to do with him?"
"We don't know; and it's none of our business."
"Of course it isn't," replied Bissell cheerfully, as he hauled up the bow of the boat so that the party could get on board. "How are you feeling now, Paul?"
"I think I am all right. I have got some hard cracks since I saw you at your house, but I guess I shall come out of it all right," replied the prisoner, looking with interest and anxiety into the face of the store-keeper.
Just then, while the ruffians were picking their way into the boat, Bissell gave the prisoner an almost imperceptible wink, which Paul saw and comprehended. It was full of hope to him, for he did not see how the skipper could deliver him over to the magnate after the good service he had rendered, in his humble way, on board of the Silver Moon. Besides, he was a Beech Hiller now, and the store-keeper knew it. He was under great obligations to them, and Paul did not believe he would betray one of their number.
The skipper had not lowered his mainsail when he made the landing, and the sloop was all ready to shove off. After two of the ruffians were in the standing-room, the prisoner was conducted on board between two others. At this point, Bissell went on board and took a stand near the tiller.
"It blows like Sam Hill to-day," said he, "and I want you to keep your places, and not move out of them. There are eight of us now, and sit four on a side. Here, Paul, you sit there," and he shoved the prisoner into the place next to his own, on the port side.
"But you won't have to go out into the rough water to get to Sandy Point," suggested Mad Twinker.