“Why, O’Neil!” he cried gladly, “you gave us a scare. Come in.”
“What is it?” Phil added, seeing the look of determination in the sailor’s face.
“I’ve heard that ‘all hands’ are to be kept on board ship,” the sailor answered. “I heard Mr. Penfield talking to Mr. Lazar on the quarter-deck a minute ago. The admiral has given the order. Mr. Lazar has gone to the admiral himself to get permission to go ashore.”
“That’s his doing,” cried Sydney hotly. “But he’ll get the permission,” he added dejectedly.
“What I was going to say, sir,” O’Neil continued, “is, I have made my mind up to catch this fellow Craig, and I’ve come for that uniform I wore on the dago war-ship.”
“I knew you couldn’t be downed, O’Neil,” Sydney exclaimed delightedly. “I have the three suits here. I was keeping them for souvenirs.”
Phil’s face during the time his companions were talking wore a look of quiet dignity. He now put his hand affectionately on the sailor’s shoulder.
“I can’t allow you to take this risk,” he said gently. “It’s my misfortune and I shall stand it.”
O’Neil interrupted him hurriedly.
“Mr. Perry, John O’Neil is always ready to obey you, but in this, sir, I know what is best. I want the clothes. I am too old a hand, sir, to get caught. You can trust me for that.”