No Moss: or, The Career of a Rolling Stone. Castlemon Harry

was a very different sort of boy. He had promised never to reveal any of the secrets intrusted to his keeping, he had sealed the compact by shaking hands with his chief, and he would have endured almost any punishment before proving himself unworthy of the confidence of his fellows. Besides, he did not believe that the affairs of the band were so very desperate. He knew that the governor would never desert him, and as long as he and Tom remained on the island, there were some hopes that those of the band who had escaped would find means to effect their release.

      "Of course I know that those are not your right names," said the farmer, at length, "but I am not particular about that, for when I take you to the village to-morrow, I can find out all about you. What did you intend to do with those potatoes?"

      "Eat 'em," answered Xury. "What else does a feller do with taters?"

      "Have you eaten all the fruit and vegetables you have stolen during the last week?"

      "Sartin."

      "Well, I'll put you where you won't steal any more to-night. Josh, you and Bill take them down cellar and leave them there with the rats."

      "That don't scare me none," said Xury. "I never saw no rats yet I was afraid of. What will you do with us in the mornin', mister?"

      "I intend to break up these midnight plundering expeditions, by making an example of you. I shall take you before 'Squire Thompson."

      "What do you reckon he'll do with us?"

      "He will put you in the House of Refuge for three or four years, most likely, and I think that would be a good place for you. Take them away, boys."

      Josh lighted a candle and led the way into the cellar, followed by Tom and his mate, Bill bringing up the rear. While the young farmers were examining the windows and door, to make sure that their prisoners could not escape, Tom took a hurried survey of his quarters, which he found to be cheerless in the extreme. Three sides of the cellar were supplied with windows – narrow apertures, placed about as high as his head from the floor, and protected by stout iron bars which were set into the walls. On the fourth side was a heavy door, secured by a padlock. Tom took these things in at a glance, and quite agreed with Josh, when he said,

      "Now, then, you young robbers, you are secure for the night."

      "And I would advise you to keep quiet, and not go to kicking up any fuss down here," chimed in Bill. "If you feel like going to sleep, you can lie down on those boxes."

      Josh and Bill took their departure, and the Crusoe men were left to their meditations, and to the companionship of the rats. Tom heard them close and lock the door at the head of the stairs, and, groping his way to a box in one corner of the cellar, he sat down to think over his situation; while Xury, whistling softly to himself, began an examination of the windows. This coolness and indifference amazed Tom, who could not understand how a boy, with the prospect before him of serving out a term of years in the House of Refuge, could take matters so easily.

      "O, now, quit that whistling," drawled Tom, who found it hard work to keep back his tears.

      "What fur?" demanded Xury. "There's no use of bein' down in the mouth, cap'n. Scoldin' an' frettin' won't help us none."

      "Did any body ever see so unlucky a boy as I am? Other fellows get along through the world without any trouble, but something is always happening to bother me. To-morrow morning I shall be taken back to the village."

      "Well, I sha'n't. I aint goin' back to Newport till the governor says the word."

      "But those men up stairs will make you go," drawled Tom.

      "They'll have to find me first, won't they? If they think they can keep a Crusoe man in this cellar all night, they'll find out their mistake in the mornin'. They'll go to bed before long, an' then we'll see what we can do."

      As Xury said this, he stretched himself out on the box beside his captain, and settling into a comfortable position, waited patiently for the farmer and his family to retire to rest. He expected to be free before morning; and, as his examination had satisfied him that he could not effect his escape without assistance, he was depending entirely upon the governor. Had he known what was going on at that moment, a short distance from the house, he might not have had so much faith in the chief's ability to release him.

      Sam, Jack Spaniard, Friday, and Will Atkins, more fortunate than their fellows, succeeded in eluding their pursuers, and met on the bluff, above the cove, and sat down to rest after their long run, and to talk over the events of the night. The governor reported the capture of Tom and his mate. He was but a short distance from them when they were overtaken, although he did not know who the unlucky ones were, until he met the band on the cliff. The Crusoe men were dismayed when they learned the extent of their loss, and some of them were strongly in favor of abandoning their enterprise. Will Atkins, especially, was very much disheartened, and urged his companions to return to the village at once.

      "The jig is up now, fellers," said he, "an' I, fur one, am goin' home. Tommy an' Xury are captured, an' the first thing we know, we may be gobbled up, too. An' even if we aint, we four fellers can't rob Mr. Henry's store, an' take the Sweepstakes besides."

      "Now, Atkins, who asked you fur any advice?" demanded the governor, angrily. "The expedition aint dead yet, even if two of us have fallen into the hands of the enemy. As soon as we get rested we'll go up to the house, an' if we can find out where the cap'n an' Xury are, we'll help 'em."

      "I've run risks enough," returned the discontented member. "I just aint a goin' up to the house."

      "What's that you say?" exclaimed the chief, astonished and enraged to hear his authority thus set at defiance.

      "I say I sha'n't go up to the house," repeated Atkins, decidedly; "an' I mean it."

      "Why, you wouldn't have us to leave them two fellers without once tryin' to help 'em, would you?"

      "I don't care what you do. You can do as you please, an' so will I."

      "Now, Atkins, have you forgot them lessons I have given you? If you don't look out I'll have to larn you a few more. You're gettin' to be mighty sassy, lately."

      "You can't scare me none, governor, fur I aint alone like I used to be. I've got at least one good friend in the band. Jack, you'll stand by me."

      "I will," replied Jack Spaniard, who arose from the rock where he had been sitting, and walked over to the side of the mutineer. "You see, governor," he added, "me an' Atkins have got tired of doin' all the work. You never let us have things our way at all, an' we aint a goin' to stand it no longer. If you want to help the cap'n an' Xury you can do it yourself."

      The governor listened to this speech in silence. He had been expecting a demonstration of this kind from Atkins, but he was not prepared for so decided an opposition to his authority. Atkins had long shown a disposition to make trouble in the band, and during the last three days he had been more disorderly than ever. The governor had often heard him grumbling to himself, and he had made up his mind to whip all the rebellious spirit out of him at the first good opportunity. That opportunity was now presented; but Sam did not think it safe to attempt to carry out his resolve. Atkins was backed up by Jack Spaniard, and with his aid, he was likely to prove more than a match for the redoubtable bully. If Tom and his mate had been there to assist him, he could have crushed the rebellion in short order.

      "Of all the mean things that have happened in the band since I got to be governor, this yere is the beat," said Sam, after a moment's pause. "You two fellers promised, not more'n two weeks ago, to obey all orders, an' to stand by your friends, if they got into trouble; an' now you are goin' back on your word. There aint no honor about such fellers as you be. Friday, whose side are you on?"

      "On your'n, governor; I don't think we shall ever see our island now, but I'll stick to you as long as any body does."

      "All right!" exclaimed the chief, immensely relieved. "Jack Spaniard, you're always been a good, law-abidin' man, an' if you'll come away from that feller, I won't say nothin' to you; I'll let you off easy. An' you, Atkins, you've been spilin' fur a good drubbin', an' the only way you can escape it, is by sayin' that you'll tend to your duty, an' obey orders like a man had oughter do. Let's hear from you."

      "I won't do duty," replied