The captain was a very prudent man, certainly; and I was aware how dangerous it would be to injure one of the Wimpletonians. They were reckless; we were cautious, and fearful of hurting them; so that they had every advantage over us, besides that of mere numbers. While we were debating the question, Forbush appeared on the forward deck. One of his hands was covered with blood, and it was plain he had not abandoned his post without an attempt to retain it. “Captain Underwood, they have driven me out of the engine-room at the point of the bayonet,” said the engineer, holding up his bloody hand. “Come up here,” replied the captain. “We have a good head of steam on, and the engine needs some one to look out for it.” “Go and fix it as it ought to be!” said the imperious Major Waddie, as he stalked up to the engineer with his drawn sword in his hand. “If there were no one but you on board, I would blow you so high you would never come down again,” added Forbush, as he glanced at his wounded hand. “None of your impudence, but do as I tell you,” puffed Waddie. “Look out for the engine, Forbush,” added the captain; “and speak to the fireman.” Forbush went to the engine, and presently the sound of the steam hissing through the escape pipe assured us the peril of an explosion was provided for. The engineer, having attended to this duty, appeared upon the forward deck again. He was not a very demonstrative man, but I could see that he was nursing his wrath under the imperious manner of Waddie. Passing through the Wimpletonians, he went to the bow of the boat. “Major, there is Wolf Penniman in the wheel-house,” said Dick Bayard, as he discovered me at one of the windows. “We’ll fix him in due time,” replied Waddie, as he glanced up at me with an ugly look, which assured me I had nothing to hope for from his magnanimity. “We must get rid of those fellows in the cabin next.” “Well, what are you going to do with them?” asked Captain Ben Pinkerton. “Land them in some out-of-the-way place on the east shore, where it will take them all day to get home again,” suggested Captain Dick Bayard. “Where?” inquired Major Waddie, apparently pleased with the idea. “At the point off the North Shoe, for instance,” replied Bayard. “That’s the plan!” exclaimed the major, as he sheathed his glittering blade, apparently satisfied that the battle was finished. “Wolf Penniman, come down here!” he added; turning to me again. “No, I thank you,” I replied, cheerfully. “If you want to get out of this scrape with a whole skin, you had better mind what I tell you,” continued Waddie, involuntarily putting his hand on the hilt of his sword. “I think I can best keep a whole skin up here,” I answered. “Better go down,” interposed the captain. “Moses and I will go with you.” Moses was one of the deck hands, who had been steering when the capture was made. There were two more of them, besides the fireman below, making seven men on board.