time they heard heavy footsteps cross and recross the deck, but that was all. Presently the schooner began to rock slightly.
"The wind is coming up," said Tom. "We are moving ahead again."
"That's bad for us—if the schooner manages to run away from the yacht," rejoined Dick.
Soon the motion of the Peacock showed that the schooner was bowling along rapidly. They heard the creaking of tackle as additional sails were hoisted, and felt certain that the craft was making the best run at her command.
The hold had not been opened up for a long time, consequently the air was foul as well as stifling from the heat.
"I'd give something for some fresh air," said Sam. "How is it with you, Dick?"
"I want fresh air and a drink of water. I am as dry as a bale of cotton."
"Haven't they given you anything since you came on board?" asked Tom.
"Not a thing."
"The inhuman wretches! Oh, I wish I had Dan Baxter here—I'd punch his head good for him."
"Ditto the head of his rascally father," returned Dick. "I would like to know just where they intend to take me—or rather all of us, now.
