“Yes,” answered Spencer. “They seen me from the Henry the first thing. And when they had me aboard the captain told Joe—that’s the feller with the rings in his ears—to stave a hole in the bottom of your boat. So he did, with a boat hook.”
“And he didn’t lick you for running away?” asked Bob incredulously. Spencer shook his head.
“No, he was too glad to get me back. He kept askin’ me if I thought I was smart as he was. He’d lost his cook the night before—ran off, he did—and so he said I was to cook. I’ve been cooking ever since.”
“Hasn’t he licked you since then?” Tom inquired.
“Oh, yes, once or twice,” replied Spencer cheerfully. “But not to hurt much. But if he’d got me to-night I guess he’d just about have walloped the skin off’n me!”
“You think he suspected something was up this evening, do you?” asked Bob.
“Yes, ’cause he was watchin’ me all the time till I turned in, just like he was a cat. There was only him and Joe aboard, ’cause he’d let the others go off. When I sneaked out I guess he heard me—the captain, I mean; Joe was asleep. But I guess he thought I would try to make for the street, ’cause he went over to the wharf after me. If he hadn’t I wouldn’t have made it, I guess.”
“Lucky he did,” said Bob. “I’ll bet he saw us at supper. Well, all’s well that ends well, Spencer. We’ll have you at home in the morning, and if you’ll take my advice you’ll stay there!”
“I’m a-goin’ to,” was the answer. “Ma, she won’t let him take me away again.”
“Good,” said Bob. “Let’s turn in. Did you fix Spencer’s bunk, Dan?”