e; for even the talkative Tom Newcombe
had left the village without giving any one so much as a hint of his
intended movements. On the evening in question, some of the crew started
the all-absorbing topic by saying, as they had probably done twenty
times before, that they could not imagine what had become of Tom, or
what his object could have been in running away. As far as the object he
had in view was concerned, Harry also confessed ignorance; but said he
believed Tom had started with the Crusoe band for the North Pole. The
boatswain was sure that he was on his way to South America; and one of
the quartermasters thought his face was turned toward the Rocky
Mountains.

"Now, fellows, I'll tell you all about it," said Jackson, who, if he
ever forgot the Crusoe men, had only to look at his hand, which bore a
long, ragged scar from the wound made by the bayonet that had been
thrust through it: "In the first place, imagine the most impossible
enterprise in the world--something that nobody but Tom Newcombe would
ever think of attempting; in the second, make up your minds which is the
most outlandish place on the globe; then put the two together, and you
have the key to his last movement."

"I wonder if he is the leader of the expedition!" said one of the
midshipmen; "perhaps Sam Barton has turned up again."

"Impossible! he could not have lived two minutes in those waves."

"Well, we know one thing," said Harry; "and that is, we are rid of our
arch enemy, and the yacht is safe. But I would give something to know
what his new idea was."

"Quartermaster, strike eight bells," said the officer of the deck.

The movements that followed this order, showed how successful the
lieutenant had been in his efforts to establish discipline among the
noisy, fun-loving boys who composed his crew. Scarcely had the bell been
struck, when the desperate broadsword fight, that had been going on on
the forecastle for the last quarter of an hour, was brought to a close;
dumb-bells, Indian clubs, and checkerboards quickly disappeared; the
star-gazers came down out of the rigging; the quartermaster once more
put his spy-glass under his arm, and began planking the deck; and
quietness and order took the place of the confusion and noise that had
reigned supreme a moment before. The hammocks were piped, the anchor
watch set, the boatswain's whistle was heard again, followed by the
injunction, "Keep silence, fore and aft!" and the crew of the yach