"What have you got on the meat?"
"Nothing," stoutly declared the newcomer, keeping his face turned toward
the bulkhead. "I have nothing on it."
"I see," scorned Jack. "You intended to bring the meat aboard to use for
a sandwich for yourself. You were about to use our kitchenette for a
while, then you would have gone on peaceably."
No answer was vouchsafed to this sally and Jack continued:
"You might as well make a clean breast of the whole matter. We know you.
You were aboard our boat once before. We are several gallons of gasoline
short because of your kindness. 'Fess up, now."
"I guess I know a way to make him talk," declared Frank. "Come here
until I suggest a method that I hope will be effective."
Frank and Jack withdrew a little from the group about the berth holding
the stranger. After a moment's consultation they returned and Jack again
addressed the injured boy in a friendly tone:
"Come, now, Carlos Madero, or whatever your name may be, we want to
treat you right, but we're going to have some information if we have to
wring your neck to get it. We don't care about doing you any harm,
especially since you're already wounded, but you will have to explain
your presence here at this hour of the night. Why did you come aboard
barefooted and unannounced?"
"I am not afraid of your threats. You can't do anything to me. Besides,
you're Boy Scouts and you wouldn't harm me."
"Never mind about that just now," interrupted Jack.
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