upon the grass at the head of the table, while his officers seated themselves on each side of him. He passed his cup to the cook to be filled with coffee, and, as he did so, he ran his eye over the table, and smiled with great satisfaction.
"This is a heap better grub than I had while I lived here alone," said he. "Friday, you know I am heavy on taters; why didn't you cook more of 'em?"
"Them's the last," was the answer.
"Then we must lay in a new supply," said Sam. "We'll go up after dark, an' hook a bushel or so. I've been watchin' them fellers up there, fur the last half hour; an' I notice they have left a good many piles of taters in the field. It'll be the easiest thing in the world fur us to get as many as we want."
The matter was settled without any further remarks. The governor's orders had thus far been received and obeyed without comment; and so small and uninteresting an enterprise as robbing a potato-patch was not worth talking about. The Crusoe men had done such things so often that they thought no more of them than they did of going fishing.
But this expedition was destined to be rather more exciting than any of a similar kind in which they had ever engaged; and if they had only known what was to happen before morning, and could have looked far enough into the future to see the long string of events that was to result from the governor's order, it is probable that they would one and all have refused duty.
Supper over, the Crusoe men lounged on the grass, in front of the cabin, and talked of what they had done, and what they intended to do – all except Friday, who busied himself in clearing the table, and washing the dishes. At sunset it was quite dark in the cove; but the governor knew there was still plenty of light on the cliffs above, and he waited nearly two hours more before he gave the signal for action.
"I reckon we can be movin' now," said he, at length. "I don't s'pose there is any danger, but, of course, it will be well for us to keep our eyes an' ears open. If them fellers up there havn't found out by this time that there's something goin' on, it aint no fault of our'n; fur we've made mighty free with their fruit an' vegetables durin' the last few nights. Cap'n, see that each man is provided with a sack to put the taters in."
Tom repeated the order to his mate, who went into the cabin, and presently returned with an armful of bags, which he distributed among the band. The chief then lighted his lantern, and, every thing being ready for the start, led the way toward the cliff, the ascent of which was regarded by the members of the band as the worst part of the undertaking. The fissure along which the path ran, was as dark as midnight; and the faint light which the governor's lantern threw out, afforded them but little assistance in finding their way.
They had made the ascent so often, however, that they had become quite familiar with the path, and there was no danger of losing their way, or of falling over the rocks. They crossed the chasm by the rope bridge in safety, and finally reached the summit, where the governor extinguished his light, and stopped to reconnoiter. Every thing was still, and Sam was satisfied that the coast was clear, although he thought it best to give his men a few final instructions.
"There don't seem to be nothin' wrong," said he, "but, bein' an old fox, I know it aint always best to put too much faith in appearances. We won't go straight to the field, 'cause there may be somebody on the watch, you know; an' if they see where we come from, they'll discover our hidin'-place, an' then we can bid good-by to all hopes of ever seein' our island. If they get after us, we'll scatter out an' hide from 'em – we can easy do that in the dark – an' when they're gone, we'll meet here. But remember, fellers, we aint comin' back without them taters."
Sam, who had by this time become well acquainted with the country about his hiding-place, once more placed himself at the head of his men, and led them down the shore for a quarter of a mile; and after passing through two or three fields, came up on the other side of the potato-patch. If the farmer was on the watch, this maneuver would lead him to believe that Sam and his band had come from the village.
The governor had no difficulty in finding the place where the farmer had left his potatoes, and after he had ordered two of the band to act as sentries, he set to work with the others to fill the bags.
For a wonder Tom labored as hard as the rest, and without once noticing how sadly he was soiling his hands and clothes. He was rendered extremely uneasy by the precautions the governor had taken to avoid capture, and he was anxious to get the work done as soon as possible. When his bag was filled, he tied it with a string he had brought with him for the purpose, and was making some desperate efforts to raise it to his shoulder, when an exclamation from one of the sentinels caused him to drop his burden as if it had been a coal of fire.
"See there, fellers!" whispered Xury.
"Look out, men!" chimed in Will Atkins. "I hear something."
Tom looked, but could see nothing. He knew there was danger near, however, and without waiting to see what quarter it was coming from, he jumped over his bag of potatoes, and drew a bee-line for the beach at a rate of speed that astonished himself. He had not made more than half a dozen steps, when an appalling yell rang out on the air, followed by the roar of a gun which sounded so loud that Tom, in his terror, thought it must have been fired close to his ear.
"Halt there, you villain!" shouted a voice close behind the flying captain of the Crusoe band.
Tom heard the order, and knew it was addressed to him, but he did not heed it. He ran faster than ever, the sound of rapidly pursuing footsteps lending him wings. But all his efforts were in vain. The footsteps grew louder, and presently Tom felt a strong hand grasp his collar. A moment afterward he found himself lying flat on his back, with a heavy weight on his breast holding him down.
CHAPTER V.
ATKINS REFUSES DUTY
Tom Newcombe had his first fight that night. He resisted the active young farmer who had seized him, to the best of his ability, although, for all the good it did him, he might as well have surrendered himself a prisoner at once. But the captain of the Crusoe band had a great many reasons for not wishing to be taken prisoner. In the first place, he was pretty well known in that country, and he was afraid that the farmer might recognize in him the son of the richest man in Newport; and, even if he did not, he would know that Tom had come from the village, and he would, of course, take him back there in the morning. Then what would become of him? What would his father do? and what would Johnny Harding, and the rest of the fellows, have to say about it? Above all, what would become of the expedition, and the plan he had laid for destroying the Storm King? His capture would put an end to all the bright dreams in which he had indulged during the past two weeks, and he would once more find himself an errand-boy in his father's office, deprived of every privilege, watched more closely than ever, and teased and tormented by his thoughtless acquaintances, who would never allow him a moment's peace. Tom thought of all these things, and he was surprised at himself when he found that he was fighting for his liberty with a courage and determination he had never supposed himself to possess. He kicked and thrashed about at an astonishing rate, and finding that his efforts were wholly in vain, he tried to frighten his captor by threatening him with a terrible vengeance if he did not immediately release him.
"What do you mean?" roared Tom, striving desperately to unclasp the strong fingers that were holding fast to his collar. "Let me up, or I'll give you cause to remember this night's work as long as you live. Let me up, I say."
"Well, I swan!" exclaimed the farmer, peering down into Tom's face, "I thought you made a poor fight for a man." Then hearing footsteps behind him, he looked up, and called out to some one who was approaching – "I say, Josh, they're only little brats of boys; they aint men at all. I wish I had a good apple-tree switch."
"O, now, you wouldn't use it on me if you had one," drawled Tom.
"Wouldn't!
