“Look here, Charley Hardy; in one word, you’ve got to join the Rovers.”

“The what?”

“That’s the name of a society,” answered Tim, who had mentioned it without intending to do so.

It was certainly a piratical appellation, and Charles was not prepossessed by it in favor of the society.  It had a ring of bold and daring deeds, and his studies had not prepared him to entertain a very high opinion of Tim’s heroes, Dick Turpin and Captain Kidd.

“You can’t back out now, Master Hardy,” continued Tim.

“I don’t want to join you, but I won’t say a word.”

“Very well, my fine fellow!” and Tim rose and walked away towards home.

Charles did not like this.  He was afraid of Tim; afraid that some terrible thing would happen to him if he did not keep on the right side of him.

Like thousands of others, he had not the courage to do his duty, and leave the consequences to take care of themselves.  He was more afraid of the Bunker than of the frowns of an accusing conscience.

“I say, Tim!” he called.

“Well, what you want now?” replied Tim, stopping.

“Suppose I don’t join?”

“Then you will be in Rippleton jail before to-morrow night; that’s all.”

“What for?”

“No matter; if you come to the meeting to-night, all right; if you don’t—­Rippleton jail;” and Tim hastened away, heedless of Charles’s calls.

Rippleton jail!  What could he mean by that?  He felt guilty, and his heart beat so violently that he could hardly breathe.  The stolen purse, which still lay buried on Center Island, seemed to haunt him, and with that he immediately connected Tim’s dreadful threat.  His confederate meant to charge him with stealing it.  It was all very plain, and his conscience told him how justly he would be accused.  He could not go to jail innocent, as Tony had, and be borne home in triumph from the court by the boat club.

His frame trembled with emotion; and he knew not what to do.  There was a right way and wrong way for him to proceed—­the path of duty and the path of error.

“I will go to Captain Sedley and tell him all about it,” said he to himself, “and tell him that they mean to steal the boats.”

This was the path of duty; but he had not the courage to walk in it.  He would be despised even then, and Tim Bunker would certainly be revenged if he did.

“I will go;” and he actually walked a short distance towards Captain Sedley’s house; but his courage failed him; he dared not do right, and that evening he joined the “Rovers.”

Poor Charles!

CHAPTER XV.

THE “ROVERS.”

After Charles Hardy had joined the “Rovers” band, which was composed of the original Bunkers, with others whom Tim had collected together, his conscience proved less troublesome.  The first wrong step taken, the second follows with less compunction, and so on, till the moral sense is completely blunted.