“Couldn’t be better,” grinned Jack approvingly.  “Now, here’s the letter.  Tell me what you think of it?”

Opening the sheet of paper, the bully read aloud as follows: 

“Mr. And Mrs. Digby: 

“Your son is safe and in good hands.  I alone know where the men who stole him have taken him.  But I am a poor man, and think that the information should be worth something to you.  Suppose you place two hundred dollars under the signpost at the Montauk crossroads to-night.  I will call and get it if you will mark the spot at which you place it with a rock.  Look under the same rock in the morning and you will find directions how to get your boy back.

Captain Nemo.”

“What do you think of that?” inquired Jack complacently, as he concluded the reading of his epistle.

“A bee-yoo-tiful piece of composition,” said Hank approvingly, with one of his throaty chuckles; “the only thing is—­who is Captain Nemo?”

“Why, so far as delivering the letter and getting the, money is concerned, you are,” said Jack decisively.  “Eh, Bill?”

“Oh, by all means,” assented Bill.

Sam was not included in the conversation, and gazed sullenly straight in front of him as he lay where he had thrown himself on the fine white sand.

“Oh, by no means,” echoed Hank derisively.  “Say, what do you fellows take me for, the late lamented Mr. Easy Mark?  If you do you have another think coming.”

“Now look here, Hank,” argued Jack, “what’s the objection?  All you’ve got to do is to take this note ashore, give it to some boy to deliver, and then go to the crossroads at whatever time to-night you see fit and get the money.”

“Of course,” Bill hastened to put in, “you’ve got to bring it to us for proper division.”

“Oh, I have, have I?” chuckled Hank.  “Well, what do you think of that?  I’m to do all the work and you fellows are to get the bacon!  That’s a fine idea—­not!  Four into two hundred doesn’t go very many times, you know.”

“Not four,” corrected Jack, “three.  Sam is out of this.  He’s too much of a coward to have anything to do with it,” he added, mimicking Sam’s tone.

The boat-builder’s son reddened, but said nothing in reply to the bully’s taunt.

“Well, three, then,” went on Hank; “that’s not percentage enough for me.  If I’m to have anything to do with this here job, I want half the money.  You fellows can split the rest between you!”

Jack and Bill exchanged blank looks.

“Now, look here, Hank, be reasonable,” began Jack in a tone meant to be conciliatory.

“Now, look here, Jack, be sensible,” echoed Hank mockingly.  “You seem to forget that you owe me something for the job we did on those uniforms the other night, and that other little errand you performed on the island.  You’ve got a very convenient memory, you have.  Why, I daresay those kids would have given me a nice little wad of tobacco money to have told just who took their Sunday-go-to-meetin’ suits, but did I peach?  No, you know I didn’t; but,” he added, with rising emphasis, “if I don’t get what’s coming to me pretty soon, I will.”