The genuine Robinson Crusoe, when he discovered the foot-print on his island, was not more astonished than Sam Barton was at that moment; nor were the fears he experienced more terrible than those which flashed through the mind of the chief, when he received the astounding intelligence that Bob Jennings, instead of being at home and in bed, as his spy had reported, had been standing almost within reach of him, listening to every word he uttered. The fisher-boy had learned a secret which rendered him quite as dangerous to the governor as the cannibals were to Crusoe, and the safety of his band depended upon his ability to prevent him from returning to the upper world with the information he had gained.

"Hurry up there, lads!" whispered Sam, excitedly, as he sprang into the yawl and pushed it from the shore, "we can't catch him any too quick. But whatever you do, be careful about makin' a noise!"

"There he is!" exclaimed Jack Spaniard, as a slight splashing in the water attracted his attention. "Hold that light up higher, Friday."

The boy elevated the lantern above his head, and its rays fell full upon the face of the fisher-boy, who was in the act of turning to look at his pursuers. Believing that his chances for finding a safe hiding-place under the pier were very slim indeed, he had struck out for the harbor, and was working his way through the water at a rate of speed that made Sam extremely nervous.

"Push ahead, fellows!" said he, taking his stand in the bow of the yawl, with the lantern in one hand and the boat-hook in the other. "Send her along lively. Hold on, there, Bobby Jennings, or I'll rap you over the head."

But the fisher-boy swam faster than ever. The bully was not yet near enough to strike him with the boat-hook, and he did not intend to allow him to come within reach if he could help it. But, although he proved himself to be a remarkable swimmer, he could not go faster than the yawl, and finally Sam Barton, who was leaning so far over the bow of his boat that he seemed to be in danger of losing his balance and falling into the water, was near enough to the fisher-boy to fasten into the collar of his shirt with the boat-hook.

"Now, then, you're ketched," said he, savagely, as he began to pull his prisoner toward the boat. Bob evidently thought so too; but he determined to keep up the fight as long as there was a chance for escape, and, suddenly raising up in the water, he seized Sam by the hair with one hand, while with the other he attempted to release his collar from the boat-hook.

"Stand by here, somebody!" exclaimed Sam, who felt his prisoner slipping through his fingers.

"Help! help!" shouted the fisher-boy with all the strength of his lungs. "Thieves! Robbers! Mur—"

"Jerusalem!" ejaculated Will Atkins, alarmed by the noise; and, seizing Bob by the shoulders, he plunged his head under the water to silence his shouting.

"Choke him loose, lads!" said the chief, trying to unclasp the fisher-boy's fingers from his hair. "That's it! Now, Tommy, hand me that ar rope, an' you, Jack, ketch him by the shoulders an' stand by to h'ist him into the boat when I give the word."

"Are you going to drown me?" gasped Bob, struggling to keep his head above the water. "Let go your hold, Bill Stevens!"

"Easy there, with that tongue of yours!" replied Sam, "or down you go again! Have you got a good hold on him, fellers? Now, then," he continued flourishing the boat-hook above his head, "one word out of you, Bobby Jennings, an' I'll give you a taste of this. I aint one of them kind as stands much nonsense. Haul him into the boat, lads."

Jack Spaniard and Friday exerted all their strength, and in a moment more the fisher-boy had been pulled into the boat, where he was at once thrown upon the bottom and held by three or four of the band, while Friday and Sam tied his hands behind his back with the rope. All this while Bob had fought desperately for his freedom. He did not hope to escape from his enemies, who so far out-numbered him, and held him at such great disadvantage, but he had resisted simply because it did not come natural to him to surrender upon the demand of any such fellows as Sam and his band. But all his struggles were useless now. They could do him no good, and might be the cause of bringing him bodily harm; and, knowing that it would be very poor policy to raise the bully's anger, he submitted to his captors with as good a grace as he could command, and permitted them to tie him hand and foot.

"Now, then," said the chief after he had satisfied himself that Bob was securely bound, "put out that light, an' we'll go back to the cave. If you have raised any of them fellers in the harbor by your hollerin' an' yellin', you'll be sorry for it, Bobby Jennings. I guess you won't go round in your fine skiff, drivin' honest boys away from their work any more."

Sam had traveled the road so often that he could find their hiding-place in the dark quite as readily as by the aid of a lantern. Presently he ran the bow of the yawl upon the shore, and, after listening a moment to make sure that no one in the harbor had been alarmed by the fisher-boy's shouting, he ordered his followers to carry the prisoner into the cave. Bob bore their rough handling without a word of complaint, and in a few moments he found himself lying on his back in the middle of the cave, where he speedily aroused a new enemy, in the shape of the bull-dog, which made desperate attempts to get at him, and whose chain was almost long enough to allow him to reach the prisoner. Bob several times heard his teeth snap like a steel-trap, within an inch of his ears, but when he tried to move farther away from the brute, he was instantly pounced upon by two of the band, who seemed to be afraid that, bound hand and foot as he was, he might still succeed in effecting his escape.

"Now, shut the door and light that lantern, somebody," commanded the chief. "Friday, knock that dog down agin."

Jack Spaniard fumbled around in the dark for a moment, and then struck a light, which revealed a scene that filled every boy in the cave with excitement. Friday, in attempting to obey the governor's order, had got himself into trouble. He had attacked the dog with the boat-hook, which he had kept in his hand, to resist any attempt that the fisher-boy might make at escape, but the brute, being determined to bite somebody, and probably cherishing a grudge against Friday for the beating he had given him but a short time before, turned fiercely upon him, and, fastening his teeth in his arm, threw him to the floor; and when the light from the lantern illumined the cave, he was shaking him as if he had been a large rat.

"Jerusalem!" exclaimed Will Atkins, and, catching up an ax, he was starting to Friday's assistance, when he was checked by the stern voice of the chief.

"Hold on, there," exclaimed Sam. "If you hit that dog with that ax there'll be a big fuss here. We mustn't hurt him, fur we need him to hunt goats with."

"O, now, pull him off!" drawled Tom.

"Now, you stand back an' let him alone," said Friday, who did not seem to be at all concerned. "If I can't beat this dog in a fair tussel, I don't want a cent."

During the struggle, Friday kept a firm hold of his boat-hook; and now that the lantern was lighted, so that he could see to use it, he regained his feet, and showered his blows so fiercely upon his assailant, that, in less than half a minute, he was declared to be a badly whipped dog, and Sam was obliged to interfere in order to save his favorite from serious injury.

"You fellers needn't make up your minds to see much goat meat on the table when we get to our island," said Friday, rolling up his sleeve to examine his arm, which, Tom was very much relieved to see was scarcely scratched "We'll starve to death if we don't get no grub till that ar dog ketches it fur us."

Quiet being restored, the fisher-boy was placed in a sitting posture in the middle of the cave, with his back against the skiff; Sam seated himself on the dry-goods box, while the others of the band disposed of themselves in various attitudes, and waited for their leader to speak. Bob glanced hastily from one to the other of them, and he was satisfied, from their looks, that the new member was the only one who was prepared to say a word in his favor.

Tom was already sincerely repenting that he had ever joined the Crusoe band. He had been greatly terrified by the violence he had witnessed, his face wore a timid, frightened expression, and his mouth was twisted on one side as if he had half a mind to cry. It had been demonstrated to his satisfaction that his new friends were but very little, if any, better than so many young savages, and he trembled when he thought of what they would do to him if he should accidentally break any of the laws of the band. Boys who could stand by and see one of their number engaged in a fight with a fierce bull-dog, without raising a hand to assist him, were not likely to be possessed of very kindly feelings; and if any misfortune should befall him while in their company, he could not hope for sympathy from any of them. Another reason why Tom wished himself well out of the scrape was, because he believed that the events of the last five minutes had endangered the existence of the society. We know that he was a famous manager, and that he could see a long way ahead of him while every thing worked smoothly and to his satisfaction, and no real obstacles were encountered; but now he was sadly troubled. Had he been the chief of the band at that moment, he would not have known how to act. He had readily fallen in with the belief of the others that Bob ought to be captured, in order to prevent him from revealing the secret of their hiding-place, and thus breaking up the band and putting a stop to their cruise; but now that they had got him, he was like the man who drew the elephant in the lottery—he didn't know what ought to be done with him. Sam Barton, however, was not troubled with any gloomy foreboding. Although he had, at first, looked very serious, and imagined all sorts of terrible things that would happen to him now that his rival had discovered his secret, a hasty review of the situation had convinced him that his case was not so very desperate after all. Indeed, according to his way of thinking, some such scrape as they had just got into was needed to establish his society upon a firm basis. Although the members, without a single exception, appeared to enter heartily into all his plans, he was afraid that, when the time for action arrived, one or two of the timid ones would have some excuse for backing out. That was one reason, though not the principal one, why he had stolen Bob's skiff. As all the members of his band had assisted him in it, he had thus got a firm hold upon them; and, if any of them became restive, he could enforce obedience to his commands by threatening to expose them to Mr. Grimes, the constable. The capture of the fisher-boy would serve to convince the band that he was in earnest, and that he was determined to carry out his plans in spite of all the obstacles that could be thrown in his way.

"Gentlemen will come to order agin," said Sam, assuming a very solemn air, and looking savagely at the fisher-boy. "Of all the things that have happened since I got to be governor, this yere is the beat! It don't need a smart man to tell what would happen to us if this yere feller should get a chance to tell Mr. Grimes of what he has seed here; so the best thing we can do is to take care that he don't get back to the village in a hurry. Bobby Jennings, we shall keep you prisoner here until we get ready to start for our island. Friday, you an' Jack Spaniard tie that ar dog right here in front of the door; an' then, even if he does get his hands an' feet loose, he can't get out!"

"O, now, I object to this way of doing business!" drawled Tom, as Friday and Jack untied the dog and began to drag him toward the door. "We don't want to keep Bob a prisoner here! How long do you suppose it will be before his absence will be discovered, and search made for him?"

"Well, let 'em search!" returned Sam. "They won't find him, an' mebbe they'll think he is drownded, or that he has run away."

"If we don't keep him here, what will we do with him?" demanded Will Atkins. "Haint you got no sense at all?"

"O, now, I want you to quit asking me if I haven't got any sense!" drawled Tom. "I know as much about managing affairs of this kind as you or any one else in the band."

"I don't see it!" said the chief. "A purty captain you would make now! If we should let him go, he'd have us all in jail in less than an hour: wouldn't you, Bobby?"

"Indeed I would," replied the fisher-boy, promptly. "That would be the best place in the world for you."

"O, now, you wouldn't put me in jail, Bob Jennings," drawled Tom. "I haven't done any thing."

"You haven't?" exclaimed Sam. "That's a purty story, aint it, fellers? You're jest as deep in the mud as we are. Aint you a member of our band, an' didn't the band steal the skiff? The meetin's out, now."

"O, I didn't have any thing to do with the skiff," whined Tom, who was utterly amazed at the bully's impudence. "I didn't join the band until after."

"I said the meetin's out!" interrupted the governor. "If you have any thing to growl about you must keep it until we come here agin. Now, Bobby," he added, turning to the prisoner, "you've been ketched actin' the part of a spy; an' 'cordin' to law, you had oughter be chucked into the harbor. Howsomever, if you will behave yourself like a man had oughter do, we won't do you no harm. You have seed enough of this dog to know that he's mighty rough on strangers, an' if you know any thing you'll not try to get away from us. If you do—well, you'll find out what'll happen."

After spreading an old sail upon the floor of the cave for the fisher-boy to lie down upon, and tightening up the ropes with which his hands and feet were confined, Sam again informed the band that the "meeting was out," and ordered them to get ready to start for home. The chief, as usual brought up the rear, remaining after the others had gone, to see that every thing was right about the cave. He paused a moment at the door, to assure the fisher-boy that the best thing he could do was to remain quietly a prisoner, and then he pushed the board back to its place, and Bob was left to his meditations, and to the companionship of the bull-dog.