ard to their old place to discuss their plans: "what we have got to
do is to cut and run. Come on; let's go and sit on the bowsprit again.
It will soon be dinner-time. I wonder what the Camel has got?"

"Oh, don't talk about eating now," cried Fitz, as they reached the big
spar, upon which he scrambled out, to sit swinging his legs, and closely
followed by Poole. "What's the first thing?"

"Who's to man the gig," said Poole; "and I've got to pick the crew."

"I should like to pick one," cried Fitz.

"All right, go on; only don't choose the Camel, nor Bob Jackson."

"No, no; neither of them," cried Fitz. "I say, we ought to have old
Butters."

"One," said Poole sharply. "Now it's my turn; Chips."

"Yes, I should like to have him," cried the middy. "But I don't know,"
he continued seriously. "He's a splendid fellow, and so handy; but he
might want to turn it all into a lark."

"Not he," cried Poole. "He likes his bit of fun sometimes, but for a
good man and true to have at my back in a job like this, he's the pick
of the whole crew."

"Chips it is, then," said Fitz. "That's two."

"Dick Boulter, then."

"Three!" cried Fitz.

"Harry Smith."

"Four," said Fitz.

"Four, four, four, four," said Poole thoughtfully. "Who shall we have
for number five? Here, we'll have the Camel, after all."

"Oh," cried Fitz; "there'll be nothing to cook."

"Yes, there will; the big gun and the propeller. He's cook, of course,
but he's nearly as good a seaman as there is on board the schooner, and
he'll row all right and never utter a word. There, we've got a splendid
boat's crew, and I vote we go and tell father what we've done."

"I wouldn't," said Fitz. "It'll make him think that we hadn't
confidence in ourselves. Unless he asks us, I wouldn't say a word."

"You are right," said Poole; "right as right. Now then, what's next? I
know: we'll go and make the lads get up the Manilla rope and lay it down
again in rings as close as they'll go."

"On the deck here?" said Fitz.

"No, no; right along the bottom of the gig. And we must have her
lowered down first with two men in her, ready to coil the cable as the
others pass it down. Now then, let's get inboard again and find old
Butters."

"But he'll be wanting to know what we want with that rope."

"Sure to," said Poole; "but he'll have to wait. Oh, here he comes.
Here, bosun!" he cried. "I want you to get up that new Manilla cable,
lower down the gig