d be
sorry that I escaped."

"You can thank me for it," said Sam.

"An' me, too," chimed in Xury. "I was the one who found the ax in the
cellar an' studied up the plan the governor carried out."

"I guess I had oughter have a little of the praise," observed Friday.
"It aint every feller who would have stood there an' cut down that door
with all them women hollerin' at him."

"We've all done well," said the chief, "all except Will Atkins an' Jack
Spaniard, an' they are cowards an' traitors."

The Crusoe men were gathered on the bluff at the head of the path,
sweating and panting, and congratulating themselves on the success of
their undertaking. The governor, especially, regarded it as something
well worth boasting of, and he was in excellent spirits. His society,
although it had thus far failed to accomplish the object for which it
was organized, had already made for itself a brilliant record. It had
performed an exploit in the village that would be talked about and
wondered at as long as the military academy should stand, or the present
generation of boys exist. Its members, acting under his instructions,
had overpowered three times their number of students, captured their
vessel, and would certainly have got out to sea with her but for the
treachery of Tom Newcombe. But, great as was this achievement, it sank
into insignificance when compared with the one they had just performed.
The chief had succeeded in releasing the prisoners confined in the
farm-house, and that, too, with the assistance of only one companion,
and in the face of a mutiny that had, at one time, bid fair to break up
the Crusoe band. The governor assumed the lion's share of the honor of
this exploit, and, as he thought, with good reason, for he had run all
the risk. He had led the men away from the house, and given Friday a
chance to cut down the door. His affairs had looked desperate a little
while before, but by his skill and determination he had succeeded in
bringing some order out of the confusion, and the only thing that
remained to be done was to punish the traitors, which was a matter he
could attend to at his leisure. He believed that the rebellion had
already died out, and that, when he descended into the cove, he would
find the mutineers ready to accept any terms he might see fit to offer
them.

"What's become of Atkins and Jack Spaniard?" asked Tom, who seemed, for
the first time, to notice the absence of those worthies. "I don't se