Hargo here made a signal to some of his comrades, who, in obedience to it, came up near him in a careless and apparently undesigned manner. Hargo then, by a sudden and unexpected movement, pulled the bow and arrow out of Hilbert's hand, and passed them instantly behind him to another sailor, who passed them to another, each standing in such a position as to conceal what they did entirely from Hilbert's sight. The thing was done so suddenly that Hilbert was entirely bewildered. His bow and arrow were gone, but he could not tell where. Each sailor, the instant that he had passed the bow and arrow to the next, assumed a careless air, and went on with his work with a very grave and unmeaning face, as if he had not been taking any notice of the transaction. The last man who received the charge was very near the side of the ship, and as he stood there, leaning with a careless air against the bulwarks, he slyly dropped the bow and arrow overboard. They fell into the water just in advance of the paddle wheel. As the ship was advancing through the water all this time with tremendous speed, the paddle struck both the bow and the arrow the instant after they touched the water, and broke them both into pieces. The fragments came out behind, and floated off unseen in the foam which drifted away in a long line in the wake of the steamer. Hilbert was perfectly confounded. He knew nothing of the fate which his weapons had met with. All he knew was, that they had somehow or other suddenly disappeared as if by magic. Hargo had taken them, he was sure; but what he had done with them, he could not imagine. He was in a great rage, and turning to Hargo with a fierce look, he demanded, in a loud and furious tone,-- "Give me back my bow and arrow." "I have not got your bow and arrow," said Hargo. So saying, Hargo held up both hands, by way of proving the truth of his assertion. Hilbert gazed at him for a moment, utterly at a loss what to do or say, and then he looked at the other sailors who were near, first at one, and then at another; but he could get no clew to the mystery. "You have got them hid behind you," said Hilbert, again addressing Hargo. "No," said he. "See." So saying, he turned round and let Hilbert see that the bow and arrow were not behind him. "Well, you took them away from me, at any rate," said Hilbert; and saying this, he turned away and walked off, seemingly very angry. He was going to complain to his father. He met his father coming up the cabin stairs, and began, as soon as he came near him, to complain in very bitter and violent language of the treatment that he had received. Hargo had taken away his bow and arrow, and would not them back to him. "Very well," replied his father, quietly, "you had been doing some mischief with them, I suppose." "No," said Hilbert, "I had not been doing any thing at all." "Then you were _going_ to do some mischief with them, I suppose," said his father.