"Mistake?" shouted Broadbeam. "Villainy, a conspiracy. Why----"
"The governor will investigate this matter thoroughly," said Silverado.
Dave had glided to the captain's side. In a quick undertone he advised him to smother his wrath for policy's sake. They allowed their visitors to hustle Tompkins into their boat. To the last Silverado wore a suave mask of forced politeness.
"You vile scum," broke out Broadbeam, shaking his fist after the departing yawl. "It's hard to keep the bit between my teeth and say nothing when I know that all hands from the governor down are in this dirty plot."
The old salt bestowed an approving look on Dave and hustled to the forecastle, calling the crew around him.
"Dave, how did you ever come to think of it?" marveled Bob Vilett.
"Why, it was simple--putting two and two together. I remembered the pilot's talk about paint," replied Dave. "Hear that! Captain Broadbeam is on his mettle."
Both boys listened to the sonorous voice of the commander of the Swallow. He was greatly aroused. They heard him give orders to have the entire armament of the Swallow put in active commission. A stand of rifles was to be set ready for use. To Mr. Drake was delegated the task of furbishing up two old brass ten-pounders from the hold.
"We sail to-morrow," announced the captain. "Look out for tricks to-night. These villains won't let us go without meddling further if they can help it. My men, I ask you all to stand by me if there's a scrimmage, and there will be one if those fellows try to block my way."
Dave came in for a good deal of attention from the captain, Doctor Barrell, and his father, when affairs had quieted down somewhat. They all realized that his good memory and shrewd forethought had saved them a vexatious delay and no end of further trouble from the treacherous governor and his cohorts.