well, then--!" ground out the submarine boy, savagely enough.

He attired himself in these tattered ends of raiment. Had he not been
so angry he must have roared at sight of his comical self when the
dressing was completed.

CHAPTER VIII

A YOUNG CAPTAIN IN TATTERS

"Now yo'll do, Ah reckons."

With that, the mulatto guide of the night before threw down one end of
an inch rope.

"Ah reckon yo's sailor ernuff to dim' dat. Come right erlong, 'less
yo' wants de dawgs ter jump down dar."

"But they'll tackle me if I come up," objected Jack Benson.

"No, dey won't. Dem dawgs is train' to dis wo'k. Ah done tole yo'
dat. Come right erlong. Ah'll keep my two eyes on dem dawgs."

It looked like a highly risky bit of business, but Jack told himself
that, now he had been deprived of his valuables, this yellow worthy
must be genuinely anxious to be rid of the victim. So he took hold
of the rope and began to climb. The mulatto and the dogs disappeared
from the upper edge of the pit.

As his head came up above the level of the flooring Benson saw the
mulatto and the dogs in the next room, the connecting door of which
had been taken from its hinges.

"Come right in, Marse Benson. Dere am' nuffin' gwineter hu't yo',"
came the rascal's voice reassuringly. Jack obeyed by stepping into
the next room, though he kept watch over the dogs out of the corners
of his eyes.

"Now, yo' lie right down on de flo', Marse Benson," commanded the
master of the situation. "Ah's gotter tie yo' up, befo' Ah can staht
yo' back ter 'Napolis, but dere ain' no hahm gwine come ter yo'."

Making a virtue of necessity, Captain Jack lay down as directed, passing
his hands behind his back. These were deftly secured, after which
his ankles were treated in the same fashion. Immediately the mulatto,
who was strong and wiry, lifted the boy and the lantern together.
The dogs remaining behind, Jack was carried out into the yard, where
he discovered that daylight was coming on in the East. He was dumped
on the ground long enough to permit his captor to lock the door securely.
Then the submarine boy was lifted once more, carried around the corner
of the house and dumped in the bottom of a shabby old delivery wagon.
A canvas was pulled over him, concealing him from any chance passer.
Then the mulatto ran around to the seat, picking up the reins and
starting the horse.

It seemed like a long drive to the boy, though Benson was certainl