"I reckon we've got the object of the whole expedition," he announced.
He drew out a package wrapped in heavy paper. Jack broke the string, unwrapping, and pulling out to the light, a bundle of charts, layer upon layer.
"Yes. Here we have what we're after," nodded Lieutenant Benson. "And here are two books written chock-full of notes to go with the charts. Gracious! That fellow. Millard must have stolen plans of every important fortified harbor on the Atlantic coast. And here are charts of some of the gulf ports as well."
Gray, his wounds bound, had been laid on the door of the stateroom, which had been taken from its hinges. On this stretcher, the prisoner was taken over the side into the launch.
"Who's going to pay for the damage done here, sir?" asked the skipper of the Cobtown schooner, stepping forward.
"Hm!" muttered Jack. "It seems to me you are lucky, my man, that we don't put a prize crew aboard this craft and take you back to Norfolk."
"I haven't done anything," protested the fellow, "except to stand for a lot of damage on board because you're backed by sailors and marines."
"My man," retorted Jack, grimly, "if you think you have suffered any unfair damage, then lay your case before the Navy Department. But my private advice is for you not to attract the attention of the authorities to you in case they seem likely to overlook you."
"Is my vessel at liberty to proceed?" inquired the man, sullenly.
"Yes; I have no orders to seize your craft. I'd like to, however,"
Lieutenant Jack Benson added, dryly.