“That door’s bolted,” he called. “You stay where you are. If you make trouble it’ll be bad for you. We’re three to one and you’d better give up!” There was a long silence. Evidently the fellow in the stateroom was pondering the advice. At last, however——
“What yer goin’ ter do with me?” asked a deep, gruff voice in which Nelson thought he caught a tremor.
“We’re almost at New London and when we get there we’re going to give you up to the police and let you explain, if you can, why you ran off with our boat.”
“Did yer say there was three of yer?” asked the other.
“No, you’ll stay where you are,” answered Nelson.
“I give yer my word I won’t do nothin’ if yer’ll lemme out,” pleaded the prisoner. “Hope ter die!”
“Very well,” said Nelson. “Reach it through the nearest port and lay it on the deck. Understand?”
“You go and fetch it, Tommy.” Nelson whispered. In a moment Tom was back with the revolver in his hand.
“It isn’t loaded,” he whispered, “and it lu-lu-lu-looks like Bob’s.”
“It is Bob’s,” said Nelson, examining it.
“Bob su-su-says to stop the engine so as he cu-cu-can leave the wheel.”
Nelson obeyed and Bob tumbled impatiently down into the engine room.
“Are you going to let him out?” he asked.
“Yes, we can manage him. And he can’t get away unless he swims. First, though, tell him to hand out the cartridges.”
Nelson followed the suggestion and Tom brought down Bob’s box of cartridges. Bob grimly loaded the revolver. When he was through he nodded to Nelson. The latter went to the door.
“I’m going to let you out on the understanding that you give yourself up and make no attempt to escape. Understand that?”
“All right,” said Nelson. “Get out of the way, Barry.” The terrier for several minutes had been sniffing at the door and wagging his stump of a tail. Nelson shot back the bolt and stepped aside.
Slowly the door opened, and then three jaws dropped simultaneously and three faces were overspread with amazement.
CHAPTER XXIII—TELLS HOW THE FOUR ENCOUNTERED OLD ACQUAINTANCES
Have you ever, dear Reader, sat down in a chair when it wasn’t there? Or skated to skim ice supposing it to be two inches thick? Have you ever stood at the net, with the eyes of the “gallery” upon you, and smiled grimly and yet pityingly as you swung your racket up for the overhead smash that was to “kill” the ball, and then hit only air? If you have ever done any of these things you can have a dim idea, at least, of how Nelson and Bob and Tom looked and felt when Dan, alternately scowling like a desperado and grinning like a Chinese idol, opened the stateroom door and walked out upon them!