The captain took his cigar out of his mouth, and puffed out a wreath of smoke.

"I have a theory of my own upon the subject."

"And I say it is monstrous! preposterous! incredible! Do you mean to tell me such a trick as that could have been played in the light of day?"

This was from the stout old gentleman.

"Apparently it was done in the light of day, however it was done. I have only suggested a theory. Of course you are at liberty to accept it or reject it, as you please."

"I do reject it entirely! absolutely! I am sixty-seven next June, and I know perfectly well that no such trick would be played on me."

"You are, probably, a person of peculiar ac.u.men."

But the stout old gentleman was not to be flattered.

"As you have a theory of how the robbery was performed, perhaps you have a theory of how the robbers might be caught."

"I have one or two theories. I could go further and say that, if it were made worth my while, I would engage to find the thieves."

"Made worth your while, sir! Isn't it worth every honest man's while to find a thief?"

"Not necessarily. Take your own case. Would you be prepared to find the thieves?"

"If I knew where they were."

"Precisely; that is just the point. What you mean is, that if they were found you would give them into custody, but you have to find them first. People don't go thief-hunting from motives of pure philanthropy; even a policeman requires you to make it worth his while."

"May I ask if you are an amateur detective?" inquired the severe-looking gentleman.

"I shouldn't call myself quite that," said "Uncle Tom."

"But you have evidently had considerable experience in dealing with crime?"

"It has been the study of my life," said "Uncle Tom."

"I suppose that it is a very interesting study?"

"Very interesting indeed."

"If it is not an impertinent question, may I ask whether it has been your own experience that such a study improves the moral nature of a man?"

"Quite the reverse," said "Uncle Tom."

"You are frank."

"What is life unless you are?" asked "Uncle Tom."

The captain laughed; but Bertie was in agony The train began to slow.

"I think this is Southampton," said the thin young man.

And it was.

Chapter XIX

TO JERSEY WITH A THIEF

The night's boat was the _Ella_. When the train drew to a standstill and the pa.s.sengers got out Bertie supposed that their journey was at an end. His ideas as to the whereabouts of Jersey were very vague indeed. He was surprised, therefore, when the captain, taking his hand, led him along the gangway to the boat. The stars were shining brightly overhead, but midnight never is quite as light as noon, and in the uncertain light he could neither see nor understand where it was that they were going.

The captain led him to the hurricane deck, and then he paused. Then he led Bertie to a seat.

"This will be your bed to-night. I don't choose to go into the cabin, and I don't choose that you shall go without me."

Bertie sat down and wondered. Dark figures were pa.s.sing to and fro; there were the lights on the sh.o.r.e; he could feel the throbbing of the engines; there was the unclouded sky above; he still was in a dream.

Unfortunately the figure of the captain standing near turned the dream into a nightmare.

Most of the pa.s.sengers went at once into their cabins. No one came near them.

"Look up at me."

Bertie looked up. The captain, standing, looked down at him.

"Do you think I didn't see you in the train? Do you think I didn't see you wanting to open your mouth and blab before all those fools? It would have been capital fun for you, now, wouldn't it?"

Bertie shivered. The captain's ideas of fun were singular. Bertie would have almost given his life to have done what the rascal hinted at, but he would have done it in his extremity of agony and with no idea of fun. It would have taken a burden off his mind which seemed almost greater than he could bear; it threatened to drive him mad. But to have played the part suggested would have needed a touch of the heroic--a courage, a strength which Bertie had not got.

The captain went on.

"I had half a mind to have shot you then. If you had winked your eye I think I should have done the trick. I have not quite made up my mind what I shall do with you yet. We shall soon be out at sea. Boys easily fall overboard at night. I shouldn't be surprised if you fall overboard--by accident, you understand."

The captain smiled; but Bertie's heart stood still.

"Now lie down upon that seat, put your head upon that bag, and don't you move. I shan't go out of revolver range, you may rest a.s.sured."

Bertie lay down upon the seat. The captain began pacing to and fro.

Every second or two he pa.s.sed the rec.u.mbent boy. Once Bertie could see that he was examining the lock of the revolver which he was holding in his hand. He shut his eyes, trying to keep the sight away.

What an unsatisfactory difference often exists between theory and practice! If there was one point in which he had been quite sure it was his courage. To use his own words, he had pluck enough for anything. To "funk" a thing, no matter what; to show the white feather under any set of conditions which could be possibly conceived--these things were to him impossible.

In such literature as he was acquainted with, the boy heroes were always heroes with a vengeance. They were gifted beings whose nerve was never known to fail. They fought, with a complete unconsciousness of there being anything unusual in such a line of conduct, against the most amazing odds. They generally conquered; but if they failed their nerves were still unshaken, and they would disengage themselves with perfect coolness from the most astounding complication of disasters.

They never hesitated to take life or to risk it; blood was freely shed; they thought nothing of receiving several shots in the body and a sword-cut at the back of the head.

As for d.i.c.k Turpin, and Robin Hood, and Robinson Crusoe, and Jack the Giant-Killer--all the world knows that they went through adventures which makes the hair stand up on end only to read of, and through them all they never winced. Bertie was modestly conscious that these gentlemen were perhaps a little above his reach--just a little, perhaps; but what the aforementioned boys had done he had thought that he himself could do.