“As like as not,” agreed Jack. “As there’s no time to be lost, I reckon I might slip my cable right now while they’re all so busy up forward, and see if it’s possible to get a line on that mysterious cargo.”
“Good luck to you then,” Amos told him. “But before you go, give me some idea of what you want me to do in case I learn the captain suspects you and acts.”
“I hope that isn’t going to happen,” said Jack. “It would precipitate a crisis. I’d rather wait until it gets dark, when we might manage to slip the boat loose they are towing behind, and get to the land in it.”
“But what if discovery does come about?” persisted Amos.
“In that case there’s only one thing for you to do,” explained Jack; “stop the captain from coming down on top of me, even if you have to cover him with your gun. Then give our old signal, and I’ll be alongside in a jiffy.”
“All right, I’ll remember, though, like you, I certainly hope he won’t notice your absence, or, if he does, he may think you’ve just stepped back in the little cabin for something. I say that, to tell you the honest truth, I don’t like the idea of trying to offstand that ferocious sea-dog. He might rush me, and then I’d have to pull trigger, you know. So-long, Jack. Be back as soon as you can.”
“You may depend on that,” he was told, and with that Jack disappeared.
Amos continued to stand there, using the glass, and, occasionally, when he thought the skipper might be looking his way, he would turn and speak as though conversing with his chum, who apparently was lying down and beyond the range of Captain Zenos’ vision.
It was really very cleverly arranged by Amos, and did him much credit. Possibly only for this scheme he put into play the skipper may have become suspicious and advanced toward him to learn where Jack had gone to, which act would have precipitated a crisis.
A few minutes passed.