“If you don’t want to go, stay on shore,” answered Hapgood, petulantly. “But don’t make a noise about it.”
“Of course I’ll go, but I think we are getting into a bad scrape.”
Tom and Hapgood held a hurried consultation, which ended in the former’s taking a position in the bow of the boat, while the other two took their places at the oars. The muskets were laid across the thwarts, and the rowers pulled out to the middle of the creek, just in season to intercept the schooner. Of course they were seen by the men on board of her, who attempted to avoid them.
“Hallo!” said Tom, in a kind of confidential tone. “On board the schooner there! Are you going over?”
“Yes. What do you want?” answered one of the men on board the vessel.
“We want to get over, and are afraid to go in this boat. Won’t you take us over?”
“Who are you?”
“Friends. We’ve got a mail bag.”
“Where did you get it?”
“In Washington.”