“All right, though I am willing to take my chances. I won’t back out of any thing.”
“You are true blue, Bark, when you get started; but I would rather do the thing than not.”
“Very well, I am willing; and when the scratch comes I will back you up. But I do not see how you are going to manage it, Bill,” added Bark, looking about him in the brig.
“The vice has made an easy thing of it for us. While the fellows were all on deck, I went to my berth and got a little box of matches I bought in Genoa when we were there. I have it in my pocket now. All I have to do is to take off this scuttle, and go down into the hold. As we don’t know how soon the fellows will be sent ashore, I think I had better be about it now.”
Bill Stout put his fingers into the ring on the trap-door, and lifted it a little way.
“Hold on, Bill,” interposed Bark. “You are altogether too fast. When Marline comes down to let us out, where shall I say you are?”
“That’s so: I didn’t think of that,” added Bill, looking rather foolish. “He will see the scuttle, and know just where I am.”
“And, when the blaze comes off, he will see just who started it,” continued Bark. “That won’t do anyhow.”
“But I don’t mean to give it up,” said Bill, scratching his head as he labored to devise a better plan.
The difficulty was discussed for some time, but there seemed to be no way of meeting it. Bill was one of the crew of the second cutter, and he was sure to be missed when the ship’s company were piped away. If Bark, who did not belong to any boat, took his oar, the boatswain, whose place was in the second cutter when all hands left the vessel, would notice the change. Bill was almost in despair, and insisted that no amount of brains could overcome the difficulty. The conspirator who was to “do the job” was certain to be missed when the ship’s company took to the boats. To be missed was to proclaim who the incendiary was when the fire was investigated.