style="font-size:15px;"> He found Sam on the rock where he had met him the day before; and when he had piloted the Mystery into the cove, he conducted Tom up the path that led to the summit of the bluff, and together they returned to the rock, to await the arrival of the other members of the band. They came at length, and in a few minutes the yawl was lying in the cove beside the Mystery, and the Crusoe men were seated on the grass in front of the cabin, talking over their plans.
The arrangements for the cruise were speedily completed. It was unanimously agreed by the band that the only way to get their provisions was to rob Mr. Henry's store (to Tom's great surprise, not the slightest objection was made to this proposition); that they should capture the Sweepstakes, and assist Tom in destroying the yacht; that Sam should be chief of the band, Tom captain of the vessel, and Xury, in view of the skill he had exhibited in navigating the yacht down the harbor on that stormy night, should be first mate. It was further agreed that the members of the band should go back to the village, collect all the articles of the outfit, and, as soon as it grew dark, return to the island, where they would remain concealed until they were ready to start on their cruise.
"You see," explained the governor, "when you five fellers run away, it'll be sure to raise a big fuss, and mebbe Tommy's father will try to find him. But he'll never think of lookin' fur him so near the village; an' here we'll stay, as snug an' comfortable as bugs in a rug. The fuss will die out after awhile, an' then, some dark night, we'll pay our last visit to Newport."
This programme was duly carried out; and, while every body was wondering what had become of the runaways, and Mr. Newcombe was sending his tugs up and down the bay, in all directions, in the hope of hearing some tidings of the missing Tom, he was safely sheltered in Sam Barton's retreat, enjoying a foretaste of Crusoe life, happy in the society of the young vagabonds he had chosen for his companions, and never wasting a thought upon the home and friends he had deserted.
CHAPTER IV.
TOM IN TROUBLE
For the first time in a good many months, Tom was willing to acknowledge that he was a happy boy. The life he led in Sam Barton's harboring-place exactly suited him. He had plenty to eat, no work to do, and nothing to trouble him. By virtue of his rank, he was exempt from all camp duty; and the only labor he had to perform during the day-time was to dispose of his meals when Friday said they were ready. When he felt so inclined, he took part in the conversation, and discussed with the others the best methods of carrying out the plans they had determined upon; but he believed the position he held warranted the display of a little dignity on his part, and he generally kept aloof from all his companions, except the governor, and spent the most of his time in dozing and building air-castles. If the Storm King had been destroyed, he would have been willing to pass the remainder of his days in the cove. That would save him the trouble and inconvenience of a long voyage at sea, which, reckless as he was, he was in no hurry to undertake. What if the Sweepstakes should be caught out in a storm, like the one they had experienced the night they made the attack on the yacht? The captain did not like to think about this; but the question would now and then force itself upon him, and he finally determined that, if he found himself likely to get into trouble, he would shirk the responsibility by turning the command of the vessel over to his mate.
On the evening of the fourteenth day after the Crusoe men had taken up their abode in the cove, Tom lay upon the grass, gazing into the water, and lazily fanning himself with his hat. The band had been employed, during the day, in enlarging the cabin, and Tom had condescended to lend a very little assistance, and was now resting after his labors. A fire was burning brightly under the bluff, and, before it, supported upon sticks driven into the ground, were half a dozen fine fish, which, under the influence of the heat, were emitting an odor that would have tempted an epicure. A coffee-pot simmered and sputtered on a bed of coals that had been raked out on one side of the fire, and on the other stood Friday, the cook, watching some potatoes that were roasting in the ashes. A short distance from the fire was the table, laid for supper. It was a little knoll, thickly covered with grass, which answered the purpose of a tablecloth. The most prominent object upon it was a huge piece of beech bark, which did duty as a bread-plate – only it was filled with crackers, instead of bread; and, judging by the quantity it contained, Friday must have thought his companions would be very hungry after their day's work. Around it were arranged the dishes with which each member of the band had been required to provide himself – a tin plate and cup, and also a spoon, knife, and fork. Two more pieces of bark lay near the fire, waiting to receive the fish and potatoes.
The outfit provided by the band for their former expedition, and which fell into the hands of the students when they recaptured their vessel, had been restored to the owners by the principal, and they had brought it to the island with them. Will Atkins was now engaged in stowing it away in the cabin, Xury was arranging the beds, and Jack Spaniard was fixing up some brackets to receive the guns.
The governor was off reconnoitering. He had issued orders prohibiting his men from going outside the cove in the day-time, but he himself ascended to the upper world at least once in every two or three hours, to see what was going on, and to satisfy himself that the farmer on whose land the cove was situated had seen nothing to arouse his suspicions.
"Now, then," said Friday, "supper's ready. Will Atkins, go after the governor."
"Who made you an officer?" replied Atkins. "Go yourself."
"Now, look here," exclaimed Tom, raising himself on his elbow, and looking indignantly at the cook, "by whose authority do you issue commands here? There are a captain and mate in this society now, and all orders must pass through them."
"I forgot," said Friday. "Cap'n, will you tell somebody to call the governor?"
"Mr. Mate," drawled Tom, "be kind enough to send a man after the governor."
"Will Atkins," said Xury, "go up an' tell the governor that if he wants any grub he'd best be gettin' down here."
The order came from the proper authority this time, and through the proper channels, and Atkins could not refuse to obey.
This style of passing orders had been introduced by Tom, and was what he called the "man of war routine." He insisted that it was no more than right that all the officers should have something to do with whatever was going on; and, after a few objections from Sam, who did not like to surrender any of his authority, he had carried his point. The governor was sharp enough to see, after a little reflection, that this rule, if strictly carried out, would establish him more firmly in his position than ever before. By allowing his officers to show their authority on all occasions, they would be kept good natured; and if any trouble arose in the band, he could depend upon their assistance and support. There were two among the Crusoe men, however, who were not at all pleased with this state of affairs, and they were Will Atkins and Jack Spaniard. By carrying out Tom's system they were made hewers of wood and drawers of water to their companions; and Will Atkins, who was a turbulent fellow, declared that he wouldn't stand it – that there would be a big fuss in the society some day, if the officers persisted in making a servant of him. He always obeyed orders, because he was afraid to refuse; but he growled about it like any old sailor.
"I think this is a purty how-de-do," said he, sullenly, as he started off to obey the mate's command. "It's 'Will Atkins, do this!' 'Will Atkins, do that!' That lazy governor, an' Muley, an' Xury can set around an' do nothin'; but Atkins can't have a minute's peace."
"Go on, and obey the order," said Tom, sternly. "If I hear another word out of you, I'll report you to the governor."
This thread silenced the dissatisfied member of the Crusoe band. He knew, by experience, that the chief had a very unpleasant way of dealing with rebellious spirits, and fear of bodily harm kept him quiet.
By the time Friday had dished up his supper, Atkins returned with the governor, who
