But day followed day, and the mysterious puzzle still remained without a key.
Jean Petit had formally adopted Tom and Dave.
So terrified were the lads of the convict and their secret knowledge of his crime that they obeyed him in fear and trembling.
It was not until the morning after the capture that they managed to get together and talk. Petit had forbidden them holding converse with one another, and any signs of communication had brought out the knife.
So Tom and Dave lived for twenty-four hours on that island in awful bad company, hardly daring to look at one another.
Petit had drawn the boat up in the scrub, hidden it, and so secured it that they could not launch it without his knowledge and aid.
They might have swum ashore, and each prisoner meditated it, but the opportunity had not offered, and they were, moreover, still too terrified to make the attempt.
But now Petit was asleep and snoring, and Tom motioned Dave to sneak after him into the lantana. They had almost reached the opposite edge of the island before they drew together and spoke in scared whispers.
Dave broke out first: “I’ll never go piratin’ no more,” he said, with a dry sob.
“Nor me!” said Tom. “Not without a gun, anyway.”
“Suppose he wakes up now,” said Dave, and shuddered.
Tom had taken the precaution to pick up the billy-can. There was a swamp in the centre of the island, which Petit had brought them to the evening before.
“We’ll say we went for a billy of water to bile tea for him,” replied the elder adventurer.
“Get away,” replied Tom, “as soon as we see a chance.”
“Why can’t we go now?” queried Dave, looking longingly across the bank of the river. “I ain’t never swum so far; but I’d as lief be drowned as stay here. What is he stayin’ here so quiet for?”
“He’s hidin’,” replied Tom, sagaciously. “He’s waitin’ here for a chance to escape. I say, did you notice the belt?”
“That canvas thing around his waist? I see the end of it stickin’ out when he stooped over the fire last night.”
“Hsh!” said Tom. “He’s got the money in that!”
“The money that him and the other cove stole. The money he killed his mate for!”
“Hush!” cried Dave, looking anxiously around. “Don’t get talkin’ about that; for God’s sake, Tom don’t.”