“Help!” he squeaked, “help!  Lemme be!  Put me back on shore, I tell yer!  I’ll have every last one of yer in State’s Prison for this.  It’s abducshun,—­that’s what it is,—­d’ yer hear?  It’s abducshun!”

“Yes, and you’ve already got assault and battery against us, and smothering-with-a-pillow, to say nothing of burglary, breaking and entering, and banjo-playing after 10 P. M. We won’t any of us live long enough to serve out our sentences, not even if we get old enough to make Methuselah look like a spring-chicken.”

“And if you go on with that yelping, my friend,” added Sprague, “we’ll add piracy on the high seas, keel-hauling, drowning in a sack, and hanging at the yard-arm to our list of accomplishments.  I would have you know that we are desperate men.  This person”—­ pointing to the Chief, “is the only law-abiding one amongst us.  If you’ll be good and quiet, and sit down and behave until we are well away, you will come to no harm.”

“And we’ll let you exchange legal chit-chat with the Chief Justice, here,” added Pete.

But nothing could quiet the captive.  He broke away from them, ran up to the bow, and began once more to call for help.  At this, Pete and Sprague seized him and gently led him down into the cabin.  They closed the cabin doors and left him there.  Instantly he began to pound and thump on the deck.

“Let him thump,” said Sprague, “it’s time we departed.”

“Yes,” said Ed Mason, “any moment I expect to see Eb coming down to the shore.”

“With his pitchfork,” added Mr. Daddles.

We got the anchor up, and the boat began to move out of the inlet.  The breeze was light, but two short tacks took us into the bay.

“Where do you want to go?” inquired the Chief, gravely.  He was sailing the boat.

“‘Somewheres east of Suez,’” said Sprague.  “I don’t care.  I should like to go to sleep.  And I should think you burglars would be about ready for a nap.”

“We are!” we all groaned.

“The Chief and I will stand watch,” said Pete, “I’m not sleepy.  By George!  It’s a great night.”

He yawned, stretched both arms in the air, and gazed up toward the moon.  Suddenly he brought both arms down at his sides.

“Great Scott!” he cried, “we’ve forgotten Simon!”

The Chief gave a snort of disgust.

“If you’re going—­” he began.

“That’s so! that’s so!” shouted Sprague, “put about, Chief!”

The Chief groaned.  “Positively,” he said, “you make me sick!”

“Then you’re in no state to sail the boat,” replied Pete, “here, get away from the wheel!”

He pushed the indignant Chief away, and taking the wheel himself, began to put the boat about.

“Who’s Simon?” asked Mr. Daddles.

Nobody paid any attention to his question.

“To think of forgetting him!” exclaimed Pete, “can you see anything of him, Warren?”